Before Tomorrow
by Emmel1118
Summary: A phone call in the middle of the night and a decision made by a bleary-eyed Jackson lead to Louise finally appearing in his life again. The trouble is, will he be able to find the words that are three years in the making? Louise/Jackson
1. Chapter 1

_**a/n So, here is my next Louise/Jackson fic. I hope you like it! :) It will be about 4 chapters long and I'll be updating every Sunday from now until its finished!**_

_**This is set in the book-universe, after When Will There Be Good News? and completely disregards a lot of the stuff that is mentioned in Started Early, Took My Dog. (Mainly because I was only like forty pages into that when I started writing this). **_

_**(I apologise for any mistakes in advance!) **_

_**...**_

It was two in the morning and Jackson was lying in bed, his mind unable to stop racing at one million miles per hour. It had been a long day and it had not gone well. He had been hired to find a lost dog – not something he would have chosen if he had a choice. But he didn't. He was running out of money fast. Truth be told, Jackson still hadn't got used to the fact that all of Binky Rain's money was gone now. That Tessa had taken it. Tessa who had been his wife.

God. He sighed and stretched out in the bed. Jackson wasn't sure why he had found himself back in Edinburgh. It hadn't been a conscious decision, he'd just found himself on the train and hadn't been able to get off it. That had been four months ago now, and he still hadn't left yet.

Jackson had been picking up any cases he could find, lost dogs included. He was bored if he was being honest, but he couldn't find anything else to do with his life. All those years spent doing nothing had taken their toll on him. He didn't have much anymore, a small flat on the edge of the city and not much else. Josie and his daughter were living somewhere near Manchester having returned from New Zealand, without David Lastingham. That had made his day, to say the least.

The phone rang and Jackson reached out and picked it up. He wondered who it could be. He knew nobody in Edinburgh anymore, except from Louise, and she wouldn't call him. Especially not at two in morning. Would she?

They hadn't talked in about a year, or maybe even longer. Jackson wasn't quite sure why that was the case, but it was probably something to do with what had happened the last time they had met. When he'd been in the train crash and had been roped into finding Joanna Hunter.

"Jackson Brodie," he said, sharply. He was tired and just wanted to sleep, not be on the phone to a stranger, probably who would try and get him to buy double glazed windows. That was the only person who would call him in the early hours of the morning. It made him a little sad, to be honest.

"Um, hello, Mr Brodie." The voice on the other end of the line was hesitant, and Jackson just hoped to god that it wasn't a shy old woman who wanted him to find her missing cat. "This is Nurse Carter at the Clifford Hospital in Edinburgh." Jackson frowned, why was _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital_ phoning him at two am? What could she possibly want? "I'm sorry to disturb you at this time, but your number is down as the next of kin, and we're supposed to call if something's happened, just to inform you." The nurse sounded frazzled and tired, but her voice was clear. He was somebody's next of kin. Jackson could think of no one who would put him as the next of kin. Marlee's next of kin was Josie and Nathan's Julia so it couldn't be one of his children. Who hell could it be?

Jackson sat up and flicked the lamp next to his bed on, as he talked into the phone. "Who?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Brodie, I should have told you to start with. Louise Munroe has been involved in a car accident." Jackson felt the pit of his stomach lurch painfully. It had to be Louise. The one person he didn't want to be hurt and it was her, lying in a hospital bed somewhere. He didn't dwell on the fact he was down as her next of kin.

"Is she okay?"

"Um, she's in a stable condition at the moment and the doctors are keeping a close eye on her," Nurse Carter replied, and Jackson realised that she told him nothing, really, about how she was. The skill of an artful nurse, he guessed. They probably teach them how to do it in Medical school. "May I ask how you know Ms Munroe? She didn't put it on the form. Are you her husband? If you're not, do you know his name or number so we can track him down?" Jackson swung his legs out of the side of the bed. He was sure that Patrick, Louise's husband, was in America, and nowhere near his wife. Maybe that was why Jackson was down as her next of kin, she didn't have anyone else – though he was a rather desperate last choice, seeing as Louise still thought he lived in London and he had a habit of being nowhere near where he said he would be.

He thought about Louise for a second, about everything that had happened to them over the years, and realised that he wished he could say yes to _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital's _question. So he did. For once, Bad Jackson won. He said loudly and clearly into the phone, "Yeah, I'm her husband." The words sounded strange coming out of his mouth in regards to Louise, but he liked the tingling feeling it created in his stomach. It was only a little lie, it couldn't hurt anyone – except maybe himself when Louise found out what he'd done and hit him. And anyway, he'd always wanted to know what it would be like if they'd made different decisions and chose each other.

What he had to hope was that her real husband didn't turn up and ruin Jackson's pretend world. He had read in the newspaper that the esteemed Orthopaedic surgeon Patrick Brennan was attending a month long medical conference in LA. America. A long time to spend away from your wife in a foreign country. Jackson wouldn't be surprised to find that the couple were having a trial separation. Whatever the case, Patrick wouldn't know about Louise if no one told him.

He was being Bad Jackson but he didn't care. Louise had been hurt so not much else mattered anymore. He wasn't thinking straight but then again he never thought straight where Louise was involved.

"Well, are you going to come in, Mr Brodie?"

...

She didn't look very good when he arrived at her bed, and his heart sunk in his chest. She looked pale and her eyes were tight shut and she had cuts and bruises on her face and he realised he'd never seen her hurt before. Louise had seen him hurt – because he always got hurt – but she'd always seemed indestructible.

Jackson sat down heavily in the chair next to bed and stared at her for a minute. He was tired, unshaven and grumpy, but he hadn't even had to think about whether he was going to come and see her. It didn't need the thought. The answer always would be yes. No matter what. Well, if he was in different county, then things would be difficult, but Jackson knew he'd fly around the world for her, not that he'd ever have to. Or she'd want him to.

He'd slipped on his old wedding ring before he'd come out to complete the deception. Jackson had considered what would happen if he turned up claiming to be her husband and she was awake and clear and hit him in the face the moment he first said it. But something about the tone of _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital_ on the phone made him think this was more serious than just concussion and now he was being proved right.

Louise's car had been involved in a twelve car pile-up on the motorway and she had been badly injured. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a good few hours and they'd had to keep a close eye on her. They weren't quite sure what was wrong and it made Jackson's dread a thousand times worse. Louise would be fine, right? She was a fighter; of course she'd be fine. She was Louise. She had to be fine. For Jackson as well as herself.

Jackson leant back in his chair and looked at the woman lying in the bed. They hadn't seen each other for a year, not because he didn't want to see her, no, just...just because. He had a feeling it was because neither of them wanted to talk about what was always simmering beneath the surface, what had always been there but neither of them had acted on or even acknowledged.

He sighed and put his head in his hands. He loved her. God he loved her more than he'd ever loved anyone in his life. And yet, to him, she was the one who got away. Never touched or kissed, nothing, and yet the mere mentioned of her name made his heart ache. _Snap out of it, Jackson. _

A nurse walked into the room and he looked up. "I'm Nurse Carter. We talked on the phone. You must be Mr Brodie." Jackson nodded as _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _busied herself doing something that nurses do. Now he thought about it, what did nurses do? He'd been in and out of hospitals quite a lot over his life; he should have paid more attention. "Have the doctors filled you in on her condition?" Again Jackson nodded. "How long have you been married?" Jackson gave the nurse a small smile and looked down at his hand, at the wedding ring on his finger, cold and alien. Then his eyes flicked to Louise's hand and instead of feeling dull inside, like he had the only time he'd seen her wearing the ring before, he felt happiness threatening to overwhelm him. He looked back at his hand and the ring suddenly didn't feel so cold and so alien, because in his head, the rings linked them, till death do us part - and that couldn't fail to make him feel happy.

"Not long," Jackson replied, repeating the story he'd told himself in the car many times on the way here. "We met a long time ago though. Didn't realise what was in front of me though," he continued, because _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital_, as he couldn't stop calling her in his head, was looking at him with a stare that just begged him to tell her more. "Both met other people. Both got married." Jackson looked down at his hand again, realising with a pang that the lie he was fabricating had too much truth in it for his liking. Though then again didn't someone tell him once that the best lies were the ones that were based in truth? Well, this lie was based in truth. The lie part was the fact that they had never actually confronted their latent feelings and too many times it had gone unsaid. They hadn't finally seen what was in front of them and married. "My marriage collapsed first. My wife wasn't who I thought she was." Another truth, bleeding through. "Then hers did. If it hadn't, well..." He paused, realising that _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _was hanging on his every word. "It doesn't bear thinking about," he finished with a rakish smile and the nurse beamed back at him. "Louise and I, I think it was always there, from the first day we met." In the Cramond Inn near the banks of the Firth of Forth, when he'd been damp and naked save a blanket - because he'd just jumped into a river to save a corpse, of course - and she'd interviewed him not believing a word he said. Jackson smiled at the memory. It was three years ago now and he hadn't forgotten any of it. "I've always loved her, I think." Jackson said, wondering if Louise would wake up at this very moment and hear his heartfelt words. No such luck. She slept through the whole thing.

"Ah, that's so sweet," _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _gushed. "I wish...oh, I wish..." She continued, wistfully. "I bet you don't wish, Mr Brodie, you have every thing you've ever wanted," she added, without a trace of bitterness, a moment later. Jackson smiled at her again, but it was only on the outside. Inside he was thinking that she didn't know - how could she? – that every night he lay in bed and wished and wished until the stars fell down and morning came that Louise Munroe would walk back into his life.

And today, it had happened. Not in quite the way he had expected or wanted, but it had happened.

_Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _muttered something that Jackson failed to catch that was probably goodbye and then left the room, leaving Jackson alone with Louise. "Hello, stranger." He wasn't quite sure why his first words to her were these two, but he had a fuzzy recollection of her saying to them to him when the situation was flipped. Except Louise had never visited him in hospital and had surely not opened with the very words he was saying now. Had she?

No. It must have been a dream.

It had to be, because he also had a blurry memory that that conversation had ended with him telling her he loved her.

So it was dream, then.

It was an impulse, and one he couldn't control, that led to him reaching out across what seemed to be acres of space between the two beating hearts in the room and taking her hand. Suddenly, he remembered the last - and first and only – time he'd held her hand. They'd been in her car, on the way back from the hospital in Darlington – who knew that there was hospital in Darlington? Not Jackson. They'd shared a moment. A moment of what, Jackson wasn't sure then and wasn't sure now.

God, he'd like to be inside Louise's head, to know what she was thinking. Maybe then they wouldn't have messed things up quite so badly. Maybe then he wouldn't have proposed to an – almost – stranger the day after Louise texted him to say she was getting married. He sighed, and continued holding her hand in the slight gloom of the Clifford Hospital. It was another hospital that Jackson didn't know had existed.

...

It had been two days and Jackson, to put it bluntly, stank. He hadn't been home in those two days, sleeping by her bedside, only leaving the room once – and that had been to call her son and that had been out of guilt. Oh, and Julia had called him, angry that he'd forgotten about the fact he was supposed to be taking Nathan to the science museum. Jackson had explained and things were fine**. **

It was okay Patrick not knowing in Jackson's eyes, but Archie... Jackson knew what it was like to have a child. He had Marlee. And Nathan of course, but he was only small, whereas Marlee on the other hand was not small any longer. If Marlee had been seventeen – which, scarily, she would be in only a few short years – he'd want her to know if he'd been hurt. When she was younger however, he would have wanted to shield her from the truth, like he would do with Nathan now, but as his daughter grew older, he realised that as they lived in different parts of the country, he'd want someone to tell her if he'd had an accident and couldn't himself. So therefore, he figured Louise would be the same.

Jackson got the number from Louise's phone, which the nurse had given him, along with the rest of her possessions she'd had on her when she'd been in the crash. Jackson had assumed that Archie would be at school when he called, but he phoned anyway, knowing that if he didn't call soon, he'd forget and he didn't want to let Louise down on this. Someone else had answered and had promptly informed him that Archie was in lessons and therefore could not take the call. To his surprise, Jackson was told a few seconds later that Archie was currently attending boarding school, something that he hadn't known before. He had impressed upon the woman on the other end of the line that this call was important, that Archie's mother had been involved in a serious accident.

That had been when they'd pulled Archie out of his lesson and put him on the line. He had introduced himself as Jackson Brodie after Archie had said his own name clearly into the phone. When Jackson had finished, Archie had replied with a comment that had made the standing Jackson sit down.

"_Oh. I guess you're why she called the dog Jackson." _He hadn't thought about that dog in a long time, probably since he dropped it off on Louise's front door step. So she'd worked it out then - that it had been him who had anonymously given her a dog. Well, it hadn't been a great leap of deduction, because who else would give her a dog? It had to be Jackson. He wished he'd looked back now, because he could almost imagine her standing in the road, willing him to come back and explain why he just left a dog on her doorstep.

He had left the dog because he'd wanted her to know he cared, but didn't want to say out loud. So Jackson had given her a dog, hoping she'd realise but not minding if she didn't. It was still a dog either way. Instead, she'd just replied back, in a roundabout way, that she cared about him too. Louise had called the dog he'd given her Jackson. Is that who she saw when she called the dog, him?

He sighed.

Jackson had told Archie about what had happened to his mother and he'd wanted to come down immediately but he'd told her that as he would be in the midst of his A levels, it wasn't worth the disruption, especially as it was just a waiting game at the moment. Jackson had told him that if anything - however small or unimportant - happened, he'd call and tell him. Archie had considered Jackson's proposal for a second, then accepted it. They'd said an awkward goodbye, ended the call and then he'd come back inside.

And here he had been since. Louise's condition hadn't changed at all. They'd told him when he had first arrived that she had been having conscious moments but since Jackson had arrived, she hadn't had a single one. She just seemed to be sleeping the whole time but she wouldn't wake up. Jackson begged her every day to wake up because if she didn't wake up... If she didn't wake up, if Louise Munroe died, what would he do with himself then?

Jackson had seen death many times and in many different guises and yet this would be the first death in nearly forty years that would affect him in any way resembling grief. The deaths of his family had hit him hard but for the next four decades, he'd seen more dead bodies that he could have ever imagined, and yet none of them had been people he knew, people he cared about. Louise was the first person since his mother, Niamh and Francis had died that someone he loved would be knocking on death's door.

And it had to bloody be Louise. The woman he loved more than the world itself.

He sighed again and squeezed her hand, which was held in his, silently wishing her to wake up.

But she didn't. And Jackson felt like crying.

Jackson didn't cry. But over Louise Munroe, he did.

...

The procession of doctors who had come into the room over the last half an hour had all smiled at him with sad little smiles that did nothing for his all ready rock bottom confidence that everything would be okay. Their words hadn't been much help, either, a repetition of what he'd been told when he'd arrived, three days ago now. There was no apparent head trauma that would result in her being like this. Again, it was just a waiting game and Jackson hated it.

_Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _had tried to get him to go home several times over the last couple of hours, but Jackson knew he couldn't. Louise needed him here even if she didn't know he was here. He had to be here when she woke up, she had to see a familiar face, had to feel safe.

Jackson was holding her hand again. He felt much better when he held it, feeling closer to her. Hopefully it would also make her feel less alone. He knew that if he'd been Louise's place, he'd be terrified of waking up alone, with a crowd of strangers.

He'd talked to her as well. He figured that it didn't matter if she could hear him, because it also had benefits for Jackson. He finally got to say everything he had never said to her before. Except that he loved her. Jackson still couldn't find the words.

Jackson leant back into his chair, still holding her hand and fought the urge to close his eyes. His neck was sore from sleeping in awkward positions and he was tired because said awkward positions did not lead to a fulfilling sleep.

He was tired, but he didn't dare close his eyes. Jackson had to be here, awake, when she woke up. He could feel sleep calling him.

But then Louise squeezed his hand.

And all thoughts of sleep disappeared from his mind.

...

The first thing Louise thought when she woke up was that somebody was holding her hand. Her head was pounding and aching and she couldn't concentrate on anything, except from the hand that held hers. She wondered whose hand it was.

She felt like she had woken up after the longest sleep of her life, felt like she was coming out of fog into the light of day. So why couldn't she open her eyes? And why did she still feel so tired?

Panic threatened to overwhelm her when a few seconds passed and her eyes still wouldn't open. She couldn't speak either, the words refusing to come out of her mouth. The person holding her hand wouldn't know she was awake, she thought to herself. They would still think she was asleep. The panic was still there, resting somewhere near her stomach now, beating as if it had its own pulse, or like a butterfly trapped in cage.

Louise wondered if the rest of her life was going to be spent like this, trapped inside her own head, begging and wishing to wake up but never being able to. She tried to talk again, tried to move, to open her eyes, but she couldn't. Nothing could move, or would move.

The person holding her hand obviously cared about her, for they were holding her hand gently. Was it Archie? No, the skin was too rough, too old to be teenage Archie. Was it Patrick? Patrick was in America, it wasn't him. She drew a blank for who else it could be.

She just wanted them to know she was in here, somewhere. That she was alive and fighting. Not to give up on her. _No, please don't give up on me..._

It took all her strength, the darkness threatening to overwhelm her, but a moment later, her hand gave a twitch within the soft grasp of whoever it was holding her hand.

The darkness opened its warm arms and Louise fell into its embrace.

...

She had squeezed his hand. Jackson was sure. He stared at her for a long moment, waiting for something else to happen, but nothing did. Louise was still lying flat on the bed, and if he wasn't certain that she had squeezed his hand, he would have thought maybe he'd imagined it. It had been such a little thing, but it had made his heart soar in his chest.

He stood up and left the room. Someone else had to be told.

...

The doctor had come and looked Louise over but had shaken his head almost instantly. No change. Jackson had objected, she'd squeezed his hand, didn't that mean something? The doctor had shaken his head again and then walked out of the room. Jackson had to swallow the urge to punch him.

_Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _sat next to him after that and tried to get him to admit that he might have imagined it. Jackson could be stubborn with the best, and it didn't fail him now. And anyway, it had happened. He hadn't imagined it.

"Mr Brodie, I know you love your wife very much, but as the doctor just told you-" Nurse Carter said, smiling gently at him, but he couldn't help but interrupt her.

"She squeezed my hand, I promise you that," he paused, flicking his eyes shut for a moment. "Louise is a fighter. I know that for sure. I know her." It was not a lie. Being in love with someone helped you to understand a lot about them. Jackson knew Louise, knew what made her tick, and in return, she knew what made him tick. That didn't mean, however, that they couldn't surprise and infuriate each other.

"Mr Brodie, I am sorry-" Even the sincerity in _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _tone didn't stop the anger from welling up inside him. None of these people knew her. Jackson knew her. He loved her. They didn't.

"And she hasn't given up yet, like you all seem to have," he replied, angrily. He stood and crossed the room to the window. It looked out on the drab autumn day, with leaves blowing gently across the courtyard and the sun attempting, unsuccessfully, to break through the clouds. _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital_ sighed, frustrated. Without another word, she left Jackson on his own with Louise.

Jackson had not prayed for a long time, if ever, that he could remember, but standing by the window, Louise lying unconscious in the bed, hanging on to life by her stubborn fingernails, he did. He clasped his hands together and begged whoever was up there to save Louise, to bring her back to him. _Don't let her die. You can't let her die, or else you'll have me to worry about. _

When he turned around, Louise was still lying still in the bed.

His prayers had not been answered.

...

The dark released her. Her head was pounding again and already she wanted to sleep, even though it felt like she'd been sleeping for eternity. She could feel motion in the room around her. People were moving next to her and speaking quietly. The comforting hand was still there, holding hers tightly, as if it was a lifeline. Louise was glad for it. It was a connection to the outside world, the only one she had now that her eyes wouldn't open and her limbs wouldn't move.

After a few moments, the room suddenly went much quieter and she figured that people had left.

"I think you need to consider the fact you might have imagined it." The voice of a young woman rang out a good few minutes later, and it surprised Louise completely because she hadn't been expecting it. The room had been silent before the words and Louise had thought that everybody but the mysterious hand-holder had left. This voice came from her left, and she realised that unless the woman was talking to her, there were at least two people in the room.

"I didn't. She was awake. She squeezed my hand." The deep voice that replied shocked Louise even more than the woman speaking out of nowhere a few seconds before. She recognised it clearly, and her heart ached just at the sound of his voice. Louise would have smiled if she had control of her facial muscles, but she didn't. Jackson Brodie was the mysterious hand-holder.

She should have realised. A few months ago, not anticipating she'd have an accident any time soon, she'd changed her next of kin. She'd picked Jackson. There was more than sentimentality behind her choice, there was spite too, and an actual realisation that if she was hurt, that she'd want Jackson to know. For Jackson to be there, holding her hand, like he was now. Not that she'd expected him too. It had all been wishful thinking if she was being honest.

Louise had changed her next of kin for one simple reason. Her husband had buggered off to bloody America for a month and it didn't seem like he was coming back, so it would be useless to have him as her contact point if she was injured. No, much more useful to have Jackson.

The reason her husband had run off to America? That was Jackson too. Louise had given her husband her phone to check what she'd texted Archie about their plans for Christmas, months ago now. Patrick had stumbled across Jackson's number at the top of her speed-dial, above himself and even Archie – no; Louise wasn't quite sure why or how that had happened, either. It hadn't been a conscious decision, of that she was sure.

There had been a handy button at the bottom of Jackson's contacts that read '_messages sent to this number'. _Louise didn't know why that button was even needed, and now cursed its very existence. Patrick had found her drunk – though Patrick didn't know that – texts to Jackson. The last one, the very last one, had read:

_You bastard. You didn't say goodbye._

Or something like that. Louise had sent it the last day she'd seen him. It had been the wrong side of midnight and she'd been drinking herself to oblivion when she'd realised that Jackson's last words to her had been _'You should go home' _and that he hadn't even said goodbye. So she grabbed her phone and told him this, via the medium of text.

She hadn't sent him another text after that, not even one in the year that had passed. That was mainly because she had no clue want to write. The things she wanted to say could not be texted. They had to be said, if she told him at all. Which she shouldn't because she had a husband.

A husband who had flown off the handle when he'd read her texts to Jackson. Looking back on it, she wondered why. They were all almost six months old and nothing too scandalous was contained within in them. Just a lot of drunken swearing and the odd inquiry to where the hell he was. Jackson nearly never replied to her texts. And yet, Patrick had flipped reading them. Which he shouldn't have been doing in the first place.

They'd had the most explosive argument Louise had had for years, and all over a few texts. Patrick seemed to think that she was sleeping with this Jackson Brodie – something that had made Louise nearly laugh, because she might have given serious thought to sleeping with him in the past, but it had never happened. They'd never even kissed. Didn't mean they hadn't wanted to.

But Louise hadn't told her husband that, however. She couldn't see how it would have helped.

Patrick had stormed out of the house at the end of the argument, a rush of angry limbs and slamming doors. Louise was glad that Archie had been at school then, because it hadn't been pretty. And yet, afterwards, it had made Louise feel like she was a bird that had been freed from a cage.

A month had passed without contact from Patrick, before he turned up on their doorstep and asked to be let in. Louise had relented, made him a cup of tea and had been more honest with him than she had ever been in her entire life. She had told him that she didn't love him, at least not like she should, and that there was someone else – Patrick had started seething in his seat then - and Louise had hurriedly explained that nothing had every actually happened between them, that she had just, slowly, fallen in love with him. It was the first time she had ever said it out loud.

When Patrick had left, that evening, he had asked her if the man she was in love with was Jackson Brodie.

Louise hadn't answered. She hadn't needed too. And anyway, she didn't think she could have found the words.

A month later and the divorce papers had arrived in the post. Another month and Patrick was in LA on a month long conference. In another month, Archie would be home from boarding school.

She suddenly flicked her attention back to what was going on in the room around her, the thoughts of Jackson, Patrick and Archie making her sad. The woman was talking again, and Louise got the impression she had missed a few lines of conversation.

"Mr Brodie, I know you love your wife very much, but as the doctor just told you-" Louise's thoughts stopped dead in their tracks.

The woman had referred to Jackson had her husband.

Why the hell was she doing that?

Her mind went blank, just as Jackson cut in. "She squeezed my hand, I promise you that." She heard him pause; breathing in deeply and she felt her heart ache so much. Jackson was sitting no more than a foot away from her. "Louise is a fighter. I know that for sure. I know her." Louise's mind was racing too fast for her to keep up. But she did know that Jackson hadn't refuted the woman's claim that he was her husband and she his wife.

How long had she been in here? Why was she here? Where was here? So many questions and not a single answer. Was she suffering from amnesia and had she forgotten marrying Jackson? Could she forget marrying him if she had at all? Was Jackson just playing a cruel trick on her? Even more questions without answers. She couldn't seem to remember anything.

"Mr Brodie, I am sorry-" The woman, who Louise was certain she didn't know, said, but Jackson cut her off and instantly, she could tell he was angry. Louise had seen him angry enough times to be able to tell.

"And she hasn't given up yet, like you all seem to have." Again Louise would have smiled at his words, at his defence of her, but she still didn't have control of her mouth. She heard someone stand up and move across the room. Jackson's hand was no longer in hers so she figured it was him. A few seconds later she heard the door swing open and footsteps. Only one set though. Someone was still in the room.

Louise hoped to God – not that she was religious – that it was Jackson.

The darkness was coming calling again, she realised, as the silence stretched out. Louise had the sudden feeling she was drowning. If she died now, no one would ever know she had been able to hear this conversation, that she didn't give in that easily.

And she'd never know why Jackson was claiming to be married to her. It was the only question she really wanted the answer to.

One thing was certain, Louise Munroe was not giving up easily, and not giving up at all if she had a choice.

The darkness came again, and Louise, fighting till the last second, was unable to stop it.

...

Jackson was standing by the window again, staring out at the courtyard. Louise was still unconscious behind him. Over the last few hours – of the fourth day of his vigil by her bedside – he had started to consider what would happen when she woke up. How he would explain that he was passing himself off as her husband. She would probably hit him and, Jackson hoped, it would probably lead to some sort of conversation about their feelings and why he was pretending to be her husband.

It was because he loved her.

Not that he had ever told her that. He didn't know how to.

It had taken him too long to even admit it to himself. That he loved her. Jackson Brodie loved Louise Munroe and yet he always let her go. But then again she had never been his to let go of. They had never been together, not even for a minute, and that was what Jackson was thinking about now.

If she never woke up, if she died, Jackson would never get to kiss her. He'd never get to tell her he loved her. And that was what hurt the most, more than if they had tried and failed. No, they had never started and therefore they never knew what would have happened if they had given their relationship a go.

Jackson crossed the room to the hard plastic seat beside Louise's bed. He reached out and took her hand. He kissed it gently. His head suddenly felt dizzy, and he felt tears prick his eyes.

This was Louise and Louise was dying.

A tear rolled down his cheek. He'd told her a lot of his private inner thoughts over the last few days, but he hadn't said those three little words. Jackson wasn't quite sure why. He had bared his soul on a lot of things to her – even though she almost definitely hadn't heard him – and yet, even now, he was holding back from saying that he loved her.

The idea of her dying without ever knowing how much he cared about her made his heart sink even lower in his chest than it already was. "I..." He started, his voice hoarse and quiet.

Jackson Brodie hadn't cried for long time, and yet in the last few days he had cried more than he had in the last few years combined. It was the company he was sharing. Louise could make him cry, which was a fact he couldn't change, just as much as he couldn't change how much he loved her. "I love you, Louise. Okay? I love you," he said, a sad smile forming on his lips. He just hoped that she'd heard him.

Jackson stared at her face for a long moment afterwards, searching for signs that she'd heard him. There was nothing.

Until her eyes started flickering.

Until she opened them.

...

The dark released her again. This time things felt different. The darkness felt further away from her, as if it was retreating. As if it was letting her go. Her limbs felt different too – less of a concrete weight and more like arms and legs. She still couldn't move or open her eyes, but it felt like she was nearly there, teetering on the edge of something. She didn't know what though.

Jackson wasn't holding her hand anymore and she wondered if he had left. If he was gone and when she woke up he wouldn't be there. The thought made her feel sadder than she thought it would.

She didn't want to wake up to stranger's faces. She wanted to wake up to Jackson.

Her mind started drifting. She wondered if Archie had done his A levels yet. Somewhere in the back of her head, she remembered that he was just about to sit them – but now, she didn't trust her memory, because Jackson was claiming to be her husband, and she certainly couldn't remember that.

And she wanted to. If it had happened, she wanted to remember it. She wanted to know how they'd got together, how they'd finally stopped pretending and been happy. Because Louise hadn't been happy with Patrick. But with Jackson, she was certain everything would fall into place. She wasn't quite sure why, but she just had a good feeling about it.

Jackson's hand slipped back into hers a few minutes later, as if Louise's thoughts had summoned it. A moment later, he kissed it softly and Louise realised that she couldn't remember ever kissing him – if in fact, she ever had. She didn't want to die without kissing Jackson, at least once.

She'd married the wrong man, she knew that now. She should have married Jackson, should have kissed him the first time the urge overtook her, – which, admittedly was pretty soon after they'd met – should have told him how she felt.

She didn't want to die without Jackson knowing that she loved him.

Or maybe she had told him, and she had just forgotten all about it. God, which would be worse? It wasn't really a choice, was it? She'd rather she had told him and they'd got hitched and then she'd forgotten it to not saying a word and that Jackson was trying to mess with her head.

"I..." She heard him start. He sounded worn-out, tired, and Louise wondered how long she'd been like this, in this bed. Maybe it had been years. Maybe marrying Jackson wasn't the only thing she'd forgotten. Where was Archie? Was he alright? Had she missed anything important involving him? She was now doubting how old he was. In her head, Archie was seventeen. But if he was seventeen, then she had definitely not married Jackson. She would have sighed if she could have. Things where far too complicated.

"I love you, Louise. Okay? I love you," Jackson said, and took her breath away. It wasn't quite the first time he'd said he loved her, but the last time he'd been doped up to the eyeballs and he probably didn't mean her. But this time he sounded clear about what he meant and who he meant.

Her limbs suddenly felt even lighter and the darkness seemed to fall away, the harsh lights, in what she assumed was a hospital, filtered through. She wondered what was going on.

It took her a second, but then Louise realised she could open her eyes.

So she did.

...


	2. Chapter 2

**_a/n Here is chapter two! Hope you like. If you like it please review, it'd make my day. :) I apologise in advance for any mistakes (because I'm sure there will be some) _**

He was itching for a cigarette. Jackson had stopped smoking a few months ago – after Marlee had started going on at him about killing himself slowly. She'd badgered him into quitting and he was proud of the fact that he hadn't smoked in nearly three months.

But now, he needed a smoke. Louise was making him need a smoke. All this waiting was getting too much for him. The waiting and the wondering what would happen when she woke up. Would he finally be able to tell her he loved her?

Because he did. He knew it and she most probably did too. So why couldn't he just say it out loud? Jackson thought he knew the answer. He didn't want Louise to say no to him, to break his heart. Except Jackson was far too old for something so...so teenaged. Broken hearts were only suffered by over-exaggerating teens.

So how come his heart had broken just a little bit when he found out Louise was getting married?

He sighed. He was a coward. Jackson had never thought he'd ever call himself that. He had been in the army, fought in a war, been a copper, broken down doors, arrested bastards who had murdered people, had been married and divorced twice, had a daughter and a son he loved so much – so how come all it took to break him down was one woman? Louise Munroe. The one that got away.

The woman he could never be honest with. The woman who would never be honest with him. He would have smirked but he felt too glum. Louise was just as bad as him. Neither of them had ever admitted anything and yet Jackson was sure both of them knew. It was always there, every time they were in the same room together. And yet, neither of them had ever said a word.

Never kissed, never touched. Nothing, ever. And why not? Because he didn't trust himself not to hurt her. And yet, hadn't him not saying anything hurt her more? Or had she actually been happy with Patrick? He sighed again. He still really needed that smoke.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He searched through his contacts and found his daughter's number. Marlee answered in a flash. "Hi dad." She said brightly, and it took him a second to realise that she must had caller id on her phone. Didn't all mobiles these days? Jackson still wasn't used to it.

"Hi Marlee."

"What do you want, dad? It's just 'cause I'm going out in a sec and I can't talk long," she replied, confidently, and Jackson wondered when his daughter had grown up. He certainly hadn't been there to see it.

"Where are you going?"

"Cinema." Jackson nodded.

"Hope you have a nice time. Tell your mum I said hi." Jackson hadn't talked to Josie much since Marlee got her own phone and Josie had been cut out as the middle woman. Neither of them had minded, both had fallen out of love with each other a long time ago, of that Jackson was sure. If he had ever loved her in the first place.

"Okay. Bye dad." And with that Marlee hung up. So much for a long, interesting phone call to distract him from his need for a smoke. He flicked through his numbers and picked another to call.

Julia picked up after a heartbeat, like he knew she would. She almost always answered the phone promptly now, something she never used to. "Hi Julia." He said, quietly.

Julia was the only one who knew where he was. Why he was there. The only one who knew about Louise. It was because Jackson had had a trip to the Science Museum with Nathan planned for the day before yesterday and he had forgotten all about it. Julia had called him up, furious with him – calling him every name under the sun, and told him that Nathan was bitterly disappointed about the non-existent trip. She'd wanted to know why he hadn't turned up. Jackson had just thought that a three year-old wasn't really capable of being bitterly disappointed. They had nothing to be bitter about. Nathan was probably just a little sad. Julia had put him on at Jackson's insistence and he had told his son that daddy hadn't forgotten him, that he was just busy and that he loved him very much. Nathan had seemed much happier after Jackson had talked to him.

Julia had still wanted to know why Jackson hadn't been there. To his mortal horror, Jackson's composure - only just holding up – had cracked. He'd cried, if he remembered correctly. Not that he wanted to remember. Julia had never heard him cry – or seen him cry either – and Jackson could tell that afterwards, she was perturbed, though she didn't say anything. She'd just asked him what was up.

Jackson had explained that a friend was in hospital.

Julia had replied, with typically Julia-like honesty, _'what friend? You don't have any friends, Jackson.'_ Then she'd realised something and asked him if this 'friend' was a girlfriend.

It was with a heavy heart that Jackson had said no. He hadn't been able to stop himself adding that she should have been, though he really shouldn't have been burdening Julia with his emotional and relationship struggles. She didn't seem to mind, for once offering a kind ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. Jackson hadn't explained much more about the situation he now found himself in, but had strangely – well to himself anyway – admitted to Julia that he was in love with this 'friend'. Julia had called him an idiot, but in a friendly way and Jackson hadn't felt offended.

"Your friend still in hospital?" She asked, actually sounding like she cared.

"Her name is Louise."

"Giving _the other woman_ a name makes her more real," Julia said, dramatically, in trademark fashion.

"She's not the other woman," Jackson replied, almost indignantly. "One, me and you are not together anymore, Julia, and two, me and Louise aren't together either. She's married."

"Ooh, bad Jackson." Talking to Julia was making him grumpy, but there was no one else. "But you do love her, don't you?" Julia's tone had lost it's usually joviality, its laidback edge. "More than you loved me, right?"

"Julia-" She cut him off.

"Jackson. I don't love you, but once I did." Jackson wasn't expecting her frankness. It might have been the first time she'd ever said she had loved him. That he could remember, of course. "When did you know?"

He knew it was corny but he said it anyway. "The moment I first met her, I knew there was something." He shook his head, well aware that Julia couldn't see him. "But I was with someone else."

Julia piped in then. "You were with _me_ when you met her for the first time?" Jackson was unsure how she had managed to figure it out, but she had. "You do pick you moments..." He heard Julia mutter.

"Then she got married." He sighed, deeply, and shook his head again. "She texted me, Julia, to say she was getting married. _Texted me._"

"And did you tell her you got married?" The silence that followed meant that Jackson didn't need to answer.

"I proposed to Tessa the day after," Jackson admitted. He really should have connected the two things but he hadn't, not then. Now, it was clear, but then... Jackson shook his head.

"The day after what?

"Louise texted me."

"So let me get this straight, Jackson," Julia said, sounding almost incredulous, and he could almost guess what was coming next. This was why you didn't tell Julia your secrets. She always asked you about them. It was tiring. "You proposed to your almost stranger of a girlfriend, who turned out to be a conwoman, because your almost-ex texted you to say she was getting married?"

"Yeah," Jackson admitted, gently, embarrassed about the whole thing. It was easy to see now, why he'd proposed to Tessa, but when it was happening, he wouldn't let himself consider the fact that Louise's impending marriage was the reason he had got down on one knee. He didn't know why he'd admitted this to Julia – for all she'd ever do with this information was use it to embarrass him, like she was doing now. "Yeah, I did." It sounded stupid now and really, it had been at the time, he just didn't know.

"Oh, Jackson..." Julia said, shaking her head – or at least Jackson could imagine she was on the other end of the line. "Is she still unconscious?"

"She, um, opened her eyes yesterday."

"That's...that's good, isn't it?" Julia replied, sounding genuinely confused. And so she should be. Louise opening her eyes was a good thing. It was just a pity they closed only a few minutes later, after she had only managed to say two words that sounded a lot like 'olive juice' but Jackson was pretty certain that they hadn't been.

"She's unconscious again now," Jackson replied, glumly.

"But it's good that she opened her eyes. It shows she's still in there, doesn't it Jackson?" But to him, all it showed was that he loved her more than words could say. His heart had flipped when her eyes had opened, because he'd thought it meant he'd be getting Louise back. No, all it had done was highlight what he'd miss if she never fully returned to him. If she just stayed a shell of the woman she used to be forever.

"Yeah. I guess." God, he needed a smoke. "I've got to go, Julia. I don't want to leave her alone much longer."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye." As he went to end the call, he heard Julia call out to him. One more bloody thing. He was tired and needed to be back in the room with Louise. He was reminded quite why too much Julia was not good for you. She wore you out. Broke you down with pleasant conversation.

"I hope she'd okay, Jackson. I really do." And to his surprise, she actually sounded sincere. He pressed the end call button and went inside.

...

Her eyes flickered open. For a second, all Louise could see was white and she wondered if, even if she had switched from darkness to light, everything was still empty. But then Jackson appeared in her field of vision. He was unshaven and he looked like a wreck but he was still clearly Jackson. She was consumed by the urge to tell him how she felt, and she couldn't stop it.

"I love you," She murmured, but the words came out slurred, her mouth not used to talking. But she'd said them.

And in time. Before the darkness fell on her again, crushing her light a two-ton truck. All the air in her lungs disappeared and again she was hit by the feeling she couldn't breathe, but she didn't have long to consider it because then everything went black again.

...

Jackson was sitting next to her again. Her eyes were tight shut and she looked like she was asleep. Except she wasn't. She was unconscious and Jackson didn't know if she was ever going to wake up again. He'd never know what she'd meant to say when she'd last spoken to him. If she even knew it was him. She could have just thought he was someone else – Patrick, for example, or Archie even. Maybe the words, whatever they were, weren't meant for him at all.

He was holding her hand again. It was his default position now, holding her hand. Just in case she squeezed it again. Like she had before, even if no one had believed him. Jackson remembered that when he had first met Louise, she hadn't believed a word he had said. Truth be told, the story he was telling – of finding a corpse in the Forth, was quite out there, but still.

He sighed, and spoke quietly. "Louise? Can you hear me?" No reply, not that he was expecting one. "It's Jackson. I'm here for you, okay. So don't give up, yeah?" He smiled sadly. "God," he muttered softly under his breath. "Why do I have to love you? You never make things easy, do you?" He paused, again waiting in vain to hear her Scottish tones in reply. "Then again, I don't either."

Her eyes fluttered open, but Jackson didn't notice until she spoke quietly. "No, you bloody well don't."

...

Louise could feel Jackson's hand in hers. She could feel the cold of his wedding ring against her skin and thought that it was a rather elaborate joke if they weren't really married. God, Louise hoped she hadn't forgotten marrying Jackson. She wanted to remember. If it had happened. She still doubted the existence of a wedding between the two of them. Mainly because both of them were cowards and she didn't think they'd ever admit how they felt until they were dying. Maybe not even then. Sometimes you were buried with your secrets.

"Mr Brodie?" A woman said. Louise wasn't really paying attention, focusing more on Jackson's hand in hers and how right it felt there. Like their hands were made for each other. Not that that was possible. Louise was Scottish through and through, why would she be born with a hand that fit seamlessly into that of a divorced Yorkshireman who was ten years older than her? But it did.

"How are you doing?" The woman continued.

"Alright," Jackson replied, gruffly.

"Have the doctors come-"

"Yes," he snapped. "Things are looking up." Despite his words, he sounded glum.

"Okay," the woman said. In the pause that followed, Louise felt the darkness that was all around her getting lighter. "I'll leave you and your wife be, Mr Brodie." Louise heard the door swing shut. Then she heard Jackson groan and she would have laughed at him if they'd have been in a normal situation, but they weren't. She was lying in a hospital bed and he was either pretending to be her husband or actually was. Not normal at all.

"Louise? Can you hear me?" Yes, Louise could, but the words she was trying to say would not come out. Silence rang out. "It's Jackson. I'm here for you, okay. So don't give up, yeah?" She wanted to reach out and pull Jackson into a hug because he sounded so desperate, so alone, so scared. She'd never heard him sound so scared. Or scared at all. "God," He whispered in to the room, and her need to pull him into the hug increased. "Why do I have to love you? You never make things easy, do you?" Her heart leapt in her chest. Jackson loved her. She felt happier than she'd been in a long time. Patrick had told her he loved her many times over their marriage, and yet her heart had never reacted like this when he'd said those three little words. Jackson's words were true too. She didn't make things easy. She had an aversion to telling the truth when it came to 'feelings' and 'Jackson Brodie'. "Then again, I don't either," he continued, quietly.

She would have smiled at his words. Jackson irritated her - even if she loved him – because, well, just because he was Jackson. Jackson who never did what you expected, who always turned up in places he wasn't supposed to be, who never said what he meant. Not that she did either. Neither of them did.

Louise sighed. It was almost imperceptible, but she had sighed. Jackson hadn't seemed to notice, still staying the same position. She suddenly felt light again, could feel her limbs coming back to life. Louise wondered if she could open her eyes – mainly because she had already formulated her reply. To her surprise, her eyes opened on command. "No, you bloody well don't," she said, quietly. No, Jackson didn't make things easy. Never had, probably never would.

Jackson's head snapped up and she saw his face again. He looked gaunt and his straggly beard did not do much for his appearance, but he was still good old Jackson. She smiled at the slack-jawed surprise on his face, at the joy in his eyes. Then he stood up and slammed the big red button next to her head, unable to tear is eyes away from hers. "Well," he started, rubbing his cheek with his hand. "you've given me a fright here, Louise, I have to say." She smiled up at him, just as the door opened. Jackson helped her to sit up, before he looked over his shoulder as people flooded into the room.

For a second, Louise could feel the darkness calling out to her. If the darkness had been a person, she would have punched them, but it wasn't. She fought it off all the same, focusing on Jackson's face and his beautiful eyes.

A doctor cleared his throat somewhere behind Jackson, so he turned to look – not before raising an eyebrow at Louise in a way that nearly made her laugh. "Mr Brodie, I know that you're very happy your wife had woken up, but I do need to take a look at her, and you are sort of in the way." She frowned. The doctor called her Jackson's wife. His wife. So much for the last time all being a dream. She was awake now and the doctor had clearly said the words 'Mr Brodie' and 'wife' in the same sentence, and referring to her. What the bloody hell was going on? Jackson had some explaining to do.

"Of course," Jackson said in a way that sounded contrite, but that Louise, knowing him as she did, knew was sarcastic. He moved away and Louise would have cried out at the lack of contact between them, except from the fact that no more than a minute later, he reached out and took her hand.

The doctor who had ordered Jackson to move away came over and subjected her to a barrage of tests, shining lights in her eyes and poking and prodding and asking her questions that didn't seem to have any importance. "Okay," The doctor announced, a while later. "I'm glad to say that I think your back with us for the time being, Ms Munroe." Then he turned on his heels and left the room, leaving her and Jackson alone.

She wanted to ask him about the whole marriage thing, but before she could, a small, blonde nurse came into the room. "I just heard. Congratulations, Mr Brodie. I'm so glad your wife woke up." There is was again – they were all calling her his wife. The nurse, whose voice she vaguely recognised, turned to Louise next. "Welcome back to the land of the living. I've heard all about you. Your husband loves you very much, I can tell you that. He's hardly left this room for four and a half days," the nurse said, smiling. Louise found herself turning to face Jackson, who was staring at his feet, looking embarrassed.

Louise took a deep breath and replied.

...

She was awake. And staring at him. Louise was awake and breathing and most of all, alive. Louise smiled at him, before he stood and hit the big red button next to her head, summoning the doctors here, to Louise, to tell him what he already knew. She was going to be alright after all. He smiled back in return, unable to look away from her face, her beautiful face. He rubbed his beard – a beard he hadn't had before he'd come to this hospital. Four days away from his razor and he looked like he hadn't seen civilisation in months. "Well," he said, hardly believing the sight in front of him. He wondered if in a second, he'd wake up, all of this a creation of his sleep-deprived brain. But he didn't, and Louise remained awake below him. "you've given me a fright here, Louise, I have to say." She smiled up at him and his heart felt like it was about it burst. She was alive and safe and fine. He had never felt so relieved in his entire life.

Jackson was so happy that Louise wasn't going to be added to list of the dead he carried by his heart.

She was going to be fine.

He helped her sit up in bed, just before he heard footsteps outside. Jackson looked at the door as the doctors he had summoned arrived. Someone cleared their throat behind him and he turned – not before raising his eyebrow at Louise. "Mr Brodie, I know that you're very happy your wife had woken up, but I do need to take a look at her, and you are sort of in the way."

"Of course," he said, turning back to Louise and sitting back down in his chair. After a second, the gap between them became too much and he snatched up her hand greedily, like it was air and he was a drowning sailor. The doctor completed his tests as Jackson watched, trying to compute the fact she was awake. Then suddenly it hit him.

Bloody hell. Soon he was going to have to explain why he was impersonating her husband. More like pretending, seeing as he wasn't calling himself Patrick Brennan and had just stuck with Jackson Brodie. Had just been a little economical with the truth.

"Okay," the doctor started, and Jackson tensed. He hoped with all his heart that the doctor would say she was fine. He did. "I'm glad to say that I think your back with us for the time being, Ms Munroe." Jackson breathed a sigh of relief.

The doctor left the room after that and Jackson was glad. He swallowed, preparing to explain. But then, the door opened and _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _came in, beaming. "I just heard. Congratulations, Mr Brodie. I'm so glad your wife woke up," she said, and Jackson smiled politely at her in return. _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _turned to Louise now. "Welcome back to the land of the living. I've heard all about you. Your husband loves you very much, I can tell you that. He's hardly left this room for four and a half days." Jackson could feel the red of a blush creeping up his cheeks and fixed his eyes on his feet.

Then he frowned. What would Louise say to that? She must know that Jackson wasn't her husband. He had a sinking feeling everything was about to fall apart.

Then Louise spoke. Jackson tensed himself for the beginning of the end.

"Oh, that's my husband for you," she said, airily, as if she'd been saying for years and Jackson blinked, because she had most definitely not been saying it for years – in fact, because he was not her husband, she had never said it in her entire life.

_Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _said something but Jackson didn't hear it because he was staring at Louise, wondering what the hell was going on. He wasn't her husband. He knew that. She should know that. So why had she just lied to the nurse? It didn't make sense.

_Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _left, flashing Jackson a wide toothy smile as she did so.

"Louise, I-"

"Now I'm currently trying to work out whether you're just a bastard, or whether I've forgotten something really important." Louise was trying to sound like she didn't care, but her voice gave her away. It nearly broke on the word 'really' and Jackson realised that he should have considered the consequences of his actions when he'd first replied to that call. When he'd lied and said he was Louise's husband.

It was only because he had so wanted it to be true. Wasn't he allowed to pretend every now and again? Wasn't everybody?

"Louise, I..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. He had already considered telling Louise that it was 2013 and how the dare she forget their wedding, but he knew it would land him into more trouble and it would probably hurt her even more. "I'm sorry," he finished, with more a whimper than a bang. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to say all the things he had never said to her – like that he loved her – but the words got stuck in his throat and he couldn't say them.

Damn it, he was a coward.

"What do you mean, you're sorry?" She replied, frowning. Jackson didn't want to have to tell her the truth, but he couldn't lie to her any longer. She narrowed her eyes.

It suddenly hit him that if she'd been conscious at any point during the last few days, she might have heard him say that he loved her. God, that would complicate things, wouldn't it? "What have you heard?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've said some stuff. When you were unconscious."

Louise didn't reply for a long moment. "Like '_I love you?_'" She said, quietly. So she had heard, after all.

"Yeah. Like that," he replied, quietly.

Louise wasn't looking at him anymore. Instead, she was gazing ahead, into the distance. He wondered what was going to happen next.

...

"Oh, that's my husband for you," Louise said, smiling widely at the petite blonde nurse. She wasn't quite sure why she hadn't just turned to Jackson the first time someone had referred to her as his wife and asked him what the bloody hell was going on. She just hadn't. Louise wanted Jackson to explain when they were alone together. Not when there were strangers in the room. She didn't want him to be put off by them. But then again, even in private they had never said the things they should have.

The things _she_ should have.

Louise had long ago stopped searching for the why. Why she had fallen in love with Jackson. Had long ago realised that love doesn't do why. There were no reasons, or explanations. There was no because. There was no solution either. When you fall in love its forever.

It was such a shame she fell for Jackson then. Jackson who was just like her. Never able to put feelings into words. Not the important ones at least.

Louise had always thought love made you weak. Everyone else thought it made you strong.

Jackson thought that same as her, she knew it.

That was why they could never say it.

She sighed again.

"Louise, I-" Jackson started but she interrupted him.

"Now I'm currently trying to work out whether you're just a bastard, or whether I've forgotten something really important." She was angry, and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. All Jackson's fault, of course. Why couldn't he stay out of her life or be in it, not switching from both with stupid ease? Why couldn't he make up his mind?

And more than anything, she wanted him to tell her that she forgotten that she had married him. Be angry that she forgotten. But she had sinking feeling that it wasn't the truth. For some reason, it didn't really matter that much. _Lie to me, Jackson. Come on. Just do it. _

"Louise, I..." He tried again, but got no further, but this time not because she had interrupted him. He just didn't know what to say. A major problem when it came to them. "I'm sorry," Jackson continued, his voice quiet.

"What do you mean, you're sorry?" Louie thought that maybe she knew. What she didn't know was why Jackson was pretending to be her husband. There were many explanations running riot in her head, but she had no clue which was the one Jackson would tell her. If he ever actually gave her a reason.

"What have you heard?" The question came out of the blue, changing the subject.

"What do you mean?"

"I've said some stuff. When you were unconscious." She smiled to herself. Oh, yes. That.

"Like '_I love you?_'" She said, after a pause.

"Yeah. Like that," he replied, quietly, nodding, and Louise realised that they were finally talking about it. Her eyes focused on corridor stretching out to nowhere beyond the window. It felt like there was a weight on her chest.

"Yeah?" She said, turning to face him. She didn't know what to say. She never did, not when it came to Jackson. "Why are you pretending to be my husband, Jackson?" Louise said, moving the conversation away from declarations of love, to both their reliefs, but also disappointment. That was a contradiction, wasn't it?

She didn't want to talk about it but now they weren't she felt cheated, even though it had been her decision not to continue in that direction. Louise's head hurt. Why were things so complicated?

"How d'you know I'm not?" Jackson said, and Louise's heart flipped in her chest again. Had she misconstrued the things he'd said since she woke up? Were they really married? God, she hoped so. Not that she'd admit it out loud, though.

"What am I supposed to say to that, Jackson?" She replied, shrugging. "That oops, if that's the case, I've forgotten our wedding?" Jackson's head dipped again after her words and - not for the first time, that was for certain – she wondered what was going on in his head. She wondered if _he_ had ever wondered what she was thinking. Probably. "Jackson..." She started, before sighing deeply. "I want you to tell me the truth, okay." _For once, _she thought to herself. "Are we married?"

Jackson let out a sigh and Louise held her breath for what was coming next.

"No."

A little piece of her heart broke.

"So what the bloody hell is going on, Jackson?" His head was still lowered, and Louise could feel anger threatening to overwhelm her. She took a shaky breath, trying to regain her composure, but Jackson's silence just made her more furious. She could feel hot, angry tears pooling in her eyes but she refused to cry. Not over Jackson. He wasn't worth it. "Jackson? 'Ey?" She continued, trying to provoke him into speaking. It worked. He raised his head and looked straight at her, and Louise felt a shiver go through her.

"They called me," Jackson started, gruffly. "At two in the morning. After you'd had your crash," he said tersely and his eyes darted away from her face. "They said-" He stopped abruptly. Jackson's eyes were fixed on the floor again, as if he was avoiding her gaze. "They said you put me down as your next of kin," Jackson continued, still staring at the floor.

"So what, Jackson? You thought it would be fun to tell everyone you were my husband?" Louise snapped in reply.

"It wasn't like that," he protested.

"It bloody well looks like it from where I'm standing," Louise hit back, anger still pulsing through her veins. "What did you say?"

"When?"

"On the phone. When the hospital called. What did you say?" She asked. Her heart was hammering in her chest far too fast to be normal. Jackson wasn't her husband. Louise felt crushing disappointment rushing through her. She didn't think into that too much.

"They asked me if I was your husband," he replied, running his hand across his beard again.

"And you said _yes_?" She frowned, incredulous that Jackson would do something like this to her. Then again, he was never what she would call easy to predict.

"Yeah," He said, his tone gaining strength, and Louise realised too late that she was making him angry. That she wasn't the only one. "Yeah, I did. I thought, _hey, what would it be like to be married to Louise? _Seeing as I've never had the pleasure," he replied, matching her anger beat for beat. He sounded sarcastic and hurt, as well. Louise remembered that she wasn't the only one who was hurt by the fact they could never find the words. "I said yes," he added, shrugging.

"Why? Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because," Jackson replied, stubbornly. Louise bit her lip and closed her eyes, her whole body trembling with anger and with love. A contradiction. Again. A lot things regarding Jackson were contradictions in Louise's mind. She wanted to ask him if he said yes because he loved her but – as they always did – the words wouldn't leave her mouth. She couldn't ask him, because she was scared of the answer.

So she just shouted at him again. Because it was all she knew how to do. "Do you even think? What would have happened if Patrick turned up? My husband, Jackson? Do you remember him?"

"He's in America. He wouldn't know if no one told him. You obviously didn't want him to know. You chose me to be your next of kin, for god's sake. That's desperate."

"Did you just call me desperate, Jackson?" Her voice was deceptively quiet, for she was actually furious with him. He didn't reply. They both knew they answer, both knew he didn't mean it that way. Didn't change the fact he'd said it, though. "And how the hell did you know Patrick was in America? Are you stalking me?"

"I'm not bloody stalking you, Louise. It's called reading the newspaper." If she wasn't so angry, she might have blushed at Jackson's words – and the fact she'd got the complete wrong end of the stick. "And anyway, what does it matter? Your marriage is dead, Louise, isn't it?"

"Don't you dare talk to me about my marriage, Jackson," she hissed in response. "You don't exactly have a wonderful record on the front, do you?" She added, knowing it was harsh, but anger loosening her tongue. Jackson went to speak, but she cut him off before he could start. "You don't have a clue."

"No, I don't have a bloody clue because you don't tell me anything!" He yelled in return and for a second, Louise was stunned. She felt lost for a second, as if she didn't know who she was or what she doing. She was so angry at him, angrier than she had ever been with anyone in her entire life. Angier than she had been with Michael Pirie for getting her knocked up in the back of an unmarked police car. Angier than she'd been with _herself_ for getting pregnant. Angrier than she'd been when Archie had started his brief dalliance with crime. Angrier than she'd been with Patrick when he'd read her private texts to Jackson.

She didn't think about that too much.

"Fuck off, Jackson."

A silence descended on them after her words. Then Jackson gave her a curt nod and stood up. He looked at her for a moment and their eyes met.

"I'll give Archie a ring then," Jackson said quietly. He looked like he was going to say something else, but he obviously thought better of it, because no more words came out his mouth, before he turned and left.

Louise wondered if he was coming back. She didn't think so.

...

"No," He answered, quietly, wishing he could say otherwise, but knowing that he had to tell her the truth. Not the whole truth, no way, but the truth about why everyone thought they were married. He owed her that much at least.

"So what the bloody hell is going on, Jackson?" She replied and he could tell she was struggling to hold anger in. Then again, she had the right to be angry, didn't she? He really should have thought this through before he said yes. Though, if he had thought it through, he probably wouldn't be here right now. "Jackson? 'Ey?" He was still staring at the floor, his heart doing strange things in his chest, when she spoke again. Prompted by her words, Jackson looked up and stared straight at her, their eyes meeting.

"They called me," he admitted, quietly, a beat later. "At two in the morning. After you'd had your crash," he added, a moment later, his eyes turning back to the floor, to his feet. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. "They said-" He stopped dead. "They said you put me down as your next of kin," he finally finished, his voice hoarse and tired.

"So what, Jackson? You thought it would be fun to tell everyone you were my husband?" She hit back, her composure unravelling, the anger pumping in her veins, not quite spilling out yet, but it was clearly bubbling just under the surface. Ready for any excuse to explode. Her words hurt him. It was the fact she thought that he would ever treat her that way, like something to be toyed with, played. Jackson never would treat a woman like that, let alone Louise.

"It wasn't like that," he said, knowing he had to get Louise to understand that he hadn't done this to hurt her. That he'd done it because he loved her. He just didn't want to say it out loud. Possibly couldn't.

"It bloody well looks like it from where I'm standing," she snapped, the anger finally rising up over the edge and out into the open. "What did you say?"

"When?" He frowned.

"On the phone. When the hospital called. What did you say?" Jackson swallowed. It was the moment of truth. He would have smiled at her, tried to charm himself out of this hole, but Louise was looking at him with rage in her eyes. And Jackson realised she'd never been this angry at him before. She'd been angry at him before, but not like this, never like this.

"They asked me if I was your husband."

"And you said _yes_?" Disbelief was easy to hear in her tone and Jackson would have laughed at the absurd nature of their conversation. They should be using it as an excuse to finally speak about their feelings, not to push each other further away.

"Yeah," He admitted, anger starting to stir inside of him. Louise wasn't giving him a fighting chance, time to explain himself. To tell her how he felt and how that had led to this moment. Not that he probably would have told her but still, she wasn't giving him a chance. "Yeah, I did. I thought, _hey, what would it be like to be married to Louise? _Seeing as I've never had the pleasure." Jackson added, a moment later, sarcastically. He was angry now, there was no stopping it. Louise was always able to get under his skin like no one else before or since. "I said yes." He shrugged. It was the truth.

"Why? Why the hell would you do that?" She replied, angry and dumbfounded.

"Because," Jackson said, knowing that what he should have said was '_because I love you' _and that his actual answer was doing nothing to help things to get back on track between them.

"Do you even think?" She said, furiously. Jackson wanted to tell her that no, when it came to her, he never could think straight, but he didn't, keeping his mouth shut. "What would have happened if Patrick turned up? My husband, Jackson? Do you remember him?"

"He's in America," he hit back. "He wouldn't know if no one told him. You obviously didn't want him to know. You chose me to be your next of kin, for god's sake. That's desperate." Jackson instantly regretted his flippant words, because he just knew how Louise would interpret them. Badly.

_God, Jackson, you are such an idiot. _

"Did you just call me desperate, Jackson?" She said, her voice deceptively calm. Jackson knew her however, and knew she had not taken his words well. That he'd hurt her. Things were not going well. "And how the hell did you know Patrick was in America? Are you stalking me?" Jackson nearly shook his head.

"I'm not bloody stalking you, Louise. It's called reading the newspaper," he said, offhand. Louise was infuriating him by not letting him explain. Except she had, and he had let the chance go because as much as he thought he might be able to tell her how he felt, putting it into practice was far too daunting. "And anyway, what does it matter? Your marriage is dead, Louise, isn't it?" His words were harsh, but he was angry. Angry at Louise for letting him fall in love with her – though admittedly, how she should have supposed to stop it, Jackson didn't know. Angry at her for marrying that idiot Patrick Brennan – who he had never met but still knew was an idiot. He didn't make Louise happy – but then again, did Jackson? From what had happened today, he didn't think so.

"Don't you dare talk to me about my marriage, Jackson," She replied, spitting with anger. "You don't exactly have a wonderful record on the front, do you?" It was a low blow and they both knew it. Didn't stop it being true, though. Jackson went to say something, but Louise anticipated it and got in before him. "You don't have a clue."

Anger that had been slowly building boiled over and he snapped. "No, I don't have a bloody clue because you don't tell me anything!"

"Fuck off, Jackson." Louise hit back and Jackson didn't know what to say back. So he didn't say a word. An awkward silence fell over them like a blanket. After a moment, Jackson – realising he'd lost his chance with Louise at least for the moment – nodded and got to his feet, intending to follow Louise's command.

"I'll give Archie a ring then," he couldn't help but tell her, quietly, when he looked back from the doorway and their eyes met. Jackson knew that he loved her and she loved him, so why couldn't they just admit it? Jackson was overtaken by the urge to tell her. Just to tell her, damn the consequences.

But he didn't. Instead, he turned and left.

Jackson Brodie was a coward. And he knew it.

...

"Mum's going to be okay, then?" Archie said quietly into the phone. The impression Jackson was getting of him was that Louise had done a very good job of raising him single-handed. He sounded polite, seemed to be doing well at school, and actually cared about his mother. If Marlee and Nathan were like Archie when they reached his age, Jackson would be proud.

"I think she's going to be fine," Jackson said, smiling despite the fact he was on the phone.

"That's great," Archie said, and Jackson could hear the relief in the boy's tone.

"Yeah, Archie, it is," he replied, quietly, down the phone. It was great news but somehow, Jackson had still managed to mess things up. Louise had played a part, but a minor one compared to all Jackson's mistakes. He should have never said yes when _Nurse Carter from the Clifford Hospital _had asked him that fateful question all those days ago now. A lifetime ago, it felt to Jackson.

"Mr Brodie," Louise's son said, and he wondered what Archie was going to say. What he did say surprised Jackson a little. "how do you know my mum?" He didn't reply, his mind attempting and failing to find a suitable way to tell Archie about how he knew Louise. Truth be told, Jackson didn't know where he stood anymore. "Because you said the other day that you're old friends," Archie continued, when Jackson failed to say a word. "Except she's never mentioned you before." He frowned. Louise didn't seem like the type who told her son all about her old friends, which was why he had gone with that in the first place. That and it did reflect the truth. Sort of. "Mr Brodie-"

"Call me Jackson."

"Okay, Jackson. Why did Mum call the dog after you?" He frowned again.

"I gave her the dog." He shrugged. "She must have... Look, Archie, I don't know why she called the dog Jackson."

"Wait. You gave her the dog?"

"Yeah," Jackson admitted, sighing, wondering where this was going. He was tired and he wanted to make things right with Louise. Not that he knew how to.

"How did she know?" Jackson frowned yet again. Archie kept making him frown. Rather like his mother. "You left it anonymously, didn't you? So how did she know?"

"I don't know, Archie. Your mum's known me a long time, knows how I tick. Must have just guessed."

"Jackson," Archie started, and for a second, he sounded much younger than his seventeen years. What Louise's boy asked him next though, was not exactly what he was expecting. No, scratch that, it wasn't what he was expecting at all. "Are you my dad?" Archie Munroe asked him.

...


	3. Chapter 3

The moment Jackson left the room; Louise put her head in her hands. She was annoyed and angry at him, but his absence still made her heart ache. _Damn my heart_, Louise thought to herself. Jackson was being an idiot. And a bastard. Getting her hopes up like that and then dashing them all so quickly.

And how dare he saw her marriage was dead. What did he know?

It might be true but being told that by Jackson was not what Louise wanted to hear. She wanted him to hear him say that he loved her. Not what he had. She sighed, just as the door opened and the nurse who'd been in to see them earlier, entered, a frown on her face.

"Are you okay, Ms Munroe?" The nurse asked, kindly, and Louise realised what had happened. Her and Jackson's rather loud argument had attracted attention and not of the good type. They should have considered that that might happen, but both of them had been white hot with rage.

Rage that was slowly disappearing every moment Jackson was out of her room, out of her reach. God, she wanted him back here, holding her hand, like it was a physical ache. On the flip side, she didn't want to see the smug git's face ever again. He was a contradiction to her again and Louise always knew which side won.

Love was stronger than hate, simply. That was why, over time, the anger and the hatred she might feel for him at certain points in time would fade, but her love didn't. Sometimes she wished it would but it never had. It was her constant companion, a friend she could never get rid of. If she was being honest, she never wanted to. She loved Jackson Brodie so much that it hurt, but that didn't mean she wanted things to change, for it to stop.

However, she thought that her last words to him might have just changed their relationship forever. He might not ever come back.

"Things...things aren't very good," she admitted, softly.

"And your husband...?"

"Is infuriating," Louise said without a second thought. "And too bloody stubborn," she added a second later, almost sighing. "But that's why I love him," she conceded, quietly, the first time she had ever told another human soul about her feelings for Jackson – except Patrick but he didn't count. It was just a shame it wasn't Jackson himself. Louise wasn't sure why she wasn't telling the nurse the truth – that Jackson wasn't her husband, that her husband, her real husband, had left her and flew away to America because no one could ever love her.

Or maybe it was because she could never love another man as much as she loved Jackson.

Louise sighed again. Things were far too complicated for her liking.

"Oh," Nurse Carter, as she was called – Louise could see her name badge, pinned proudly to her chest, said. "trouble in paradise?"

"Something like that," Louise replied, softly, wondering where the hell Jackson was. Whether he would come back. Oh, she hoped so.

"Well," Nurse Carter started, a moment later. "I've come to take you to a scan for your head. So we can see what's going on up there," she finished and Louise nodded, lying back down as the nurse flipped up the rails at her side.

"I do love him," Louise said, as she and nurse waited for the porters to arrive. "It's just he can get on my nerves sometimes."

And that, Louise thought, was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Not that she'd probably ever tell Jackson.

...

"_Are you my dad?" _

Archie's words rang around Jackson's mind and he considered laughing. He was most definitely not Archie's father, hadn't even known Louise then. He wished he could say he was, that he'd known Louise and loved her right, at least once, but he couldn't. Jackson didn't know who Archie's dad was – Louise never mentioned him, so he had got the impression that he was probably married, probably a colleague, probably someone who'd never cared.

Jackson tried to think where he had been seventeen years ago. With Josie, he suspected. Probably in the very early days of their fledging relationship, a relationship that should never have got up on two feet. The only thing he was grateful to Josie for was his daughter. He would have been thirty-two years old, three years away from being a father for the first time, fooling around with Josie. Not knowing what the next few years of his life would throw at him. Not knowing the impact a woman named Julia Land would have on his life – namely a son named Nathan. Not knowing Louise Munroe and not knowing how much he could really love.

Louise would have been twenty two, scared, alone and pregnant.

Jackson wished he could have been there for her.

He paused for a moment, before replying. "No, Archie. I'm not your dad."

...

Louise was back from her scan. The doctor had just left, having informed her it was clear. She was fine. They still didn't know what had caused her unconsciousness, but Louise gathered that now she was alright, it didn't really matter. The doctor had told her that they'd keep her in for observation until the next morning and then she'd be free to go home.

It had all passed in a sort of blur for her. She was tired and she fancied a nap, but she didn't dare for one simple reason:

Jackson wasn't back and she didn't want to miss his return.

If he ever did return.

Louise sighed and wondered how she and Jackson had managed to let it get this far. There should have been a point, years ago, when they had confessed their love. Instead, things had dragged on and Louise had the feeling neither of them were ever going to talk about how much they loved the other.

Why were they doing this to each other? The only people they were hurting were themselves now – with Tessa having disappeared and Patrick flying off to America to get away from her. Their respective marriages – both only ways of trying to forget the relationship they never had, attempts to move on – had imploded, crashed and burned. They were the only people left playing the game, so why were they no longer playing by the rules?

A quiet voice rang out in the room. "Louise?" Her heart flipped again.

...

He stood in the doorway, watching her carefully before he said a word. He was working up the nerve. A nerve he had never had when it came to Louise Munroe. He wondered if he would ever get there. Wondered if he could ever tell her he loved her. Jackson wanted to. Wanted to so much.

"Louise?" He asked, quietly, not knowing how she would react. She didn't react the way he thought she would. Upon hearing her name, she looked up and their eyes met. Jackson gazed in to her eyes and realised that what he saw reflected back at him was not hate, or angry, or disappointment, it was relief.

Jackson - still standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame – saw her mouth twitch into an almost smile at his appearance. He realised just how much he'd missed her over the last year and how much he'd miss her if he had to spend the rest of his life without her.

Too much. They'd always end up doing this again. Crashing back into each other's worlds every few years, just to let another opportunity slip out of their grasps. Jackson was certain he would not let it go this time.

"I talked to Archie."

"You did?" Louise said, sounding surprised he had actually followed through and called her son.

"You named a dog after me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement and one they both knew was true. Jackson's heart was pounding in his chest, his hands were clammy and his mouth dry. Just how he had felt the first time he'd taken a girl out on a date. Her name had been Emily. Emily what Jackson couldn't remember. He'd been sixteen. Jackson was most definitely not sixteen anymore. He was forty-nine and yet he felt exactly the same as he had that cold evening he'd taken Emily to a school disco. They'd ended up snogging on the way home.

Now, Jackson wasn't aiming for that now, but if it happened, well... He sighed. He was pretty sure that it was not going to end up like that. Louise would probably slap him for his troubles, and yet, Jackson still had hoped she felt the same way.

No, it was more than hope. He knew she did.

What he wasn't sure of was wither they could both admit it. Be adults and do what adults do and let people into their lives who they loved. Jackson wanted to do that. He just had get over the nerves first.

It had been talking to Archie that had made him come to this rather big decision. Jackson had been resigned to the fact that he was never going to tell Louise how he felt and that that was how it was supposed to be – not that he believed in fate, that was. Archie asking him if he was his father had made Jackson realise something though.

He had wished he'd known her then, seventeen years ago. He had wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. It was a strange thought to have, because he could never go back in time and help her, but it proved something to Jackson. He would always want to protect Louise. To make things easier for her. Jackson had never felt like this in his entire life. But for Louise he did. He would do anything for Louise.

So why couldn't he admit he loved her?

"Yeah, I did," Louise said quietly, in reply. Jackson guessed that she had realised that things had changed between them since their argument earlier in the day. That they both understood they didn't want to keep waiting. Couldn't. That either this would be the last time or the first time.

Jackson knew which he preferred.

"Louise," he said, gently. His heart was pounding, but in a good way. This was a good thing. The words started to get stuck on his tongue, but with Louise's kind eyes guiding him forward, he finally said the words that were three years in the making.

"I love you."

...

"Louise?" Her heart flipped. It was Jackson's voice that filled the room and Louise looked up and stared straight into the eyes of the man she couldn't stop thinking about. So he'd come back then. Come back to her.

To do what, though? Louise didn't know.

"I talked to Archie," he added, a moment later.

"You did?" She couldn't help but say. She was surprised to discover that Jackson had actually called her son. For some reason, Louise had thought he'd be too angry to do something so nice. But he had said he would. She shouldn't have doubted him.

"You named a dog after me." Jackson's words seemed to come out of nowhere. Louise blinked at Jackson, at the fact he wasn't asking her, that he knew. Then it hit her. Archie. Archie told him that she named the bloody dog after him.

She'd named the dog Jackson because she was certain that Jackson had been the person who gave it to her. A year later and her conviction stayed the same. Jackson gave her the dog.

Every time she called for the dog, she remembered the man he was named after. She never liked dogs, or any animals for that matter, but for Jackson the dog - and for Jellybean, her sadly deceased cat, dead a good few years now - things were different. She loved the dog Jackson more than she really should have, being a dog and everything. But if Louise had learnt anything over the last few years, it was love didn't do rules. People who love didn't follow rules either. Or at least she and Jackson didn't.

"Yeah, I did," she admitted, quietly. Louise had the feeling that something important was about to happen.

She was suddenly reminded of the day that her DC, Marcus McLellen, had died. Her baby DC who'd been shot by a madman. The ex-husband of a woman they were supposed to be protecting. He shouldn't have died. But then again, most people shouldn't die. Didn't do a damned bit of difference.

It was a strange thing to be reminded of.

Jackson had been waiting outside the hospital for her. It had been cold and she'd tried to walk straight past him and get home without having to talk to him again. It hadn't worked out like that. It had ended up with them sitting in her car as she cried. He'd held her as she mourned for her lost DC. He had been so young, so full of life, with so much waiting for him. And then, suddenly, there had been nothing. He'd been dead.

That was the day Louise realised there was no going back for her. Jackson was it and it was forever. Not so strange after all, then.

"Louise," he said, and she knew what was coming, had known in the back of her head that it was coming when she'd seen him in the doorway. In fact she had known this was coming since almost the moment she met him, except she didn't know it would be quite like this. But it didn't matter, because Jackson Brodie was finally telling her the truth.

"I love you."

...

Jackson had finally said those three little words to Louise Munroe. It was like a weight had been lifted off of his chest and he could finally breath again. She was smiling at him, beaming at him in fact, and her eyes were dancing with happiness. He was certain he had made the right decision.

Jackson the coward had been banished.

"You love me, do you, Jackson?" Louise said, in her Scottish lilt, and Jackson took step into the room. "Well you took your bloody time," She continued, finishing her words and laughing. He hadn't heard her laugh in a long time, if ever, and it was a beautiful, hypnotic sound. Jackson never thought he'd ever describe a laugh as beautiful but Louise's was. Jackson's face broke open with a smile and he took another step closer to her. "Jackson?"

"Hm?" He replied, moving another step towards her.

"I think I might love you too."

"Do you?" Jackson replied, finally closing the gap between them.

"Yeah." She was still smiling. Louise was beautiful when she smiled. And when she didn't, if he was being honest. "Don't think this means I'm not still pissed at you for pretending to be my husband," Louise added a second later, shaking her head.

"Right," Jackson said, nodding his head. He was standing next to her bed now and he leant down and put his head close to hers. "How about I stop pretending?" The words slipped out of his mouth before he could take them back, and for a second he wondered if he'd overstepped a line he didn't know was there. Talking about getting married approximately three minutes after first telling her he loved her. But they'd already wasted enough time.

"Are you proposing to me, Mr Brodie?" Her tone was light, and Jackson could see the rest of his life laid on in front of him. It featured an awful lot of Louise.

"Yes, Ms Munroe, I think I am." Jackson couldn't help himself, leaning down and kissing her. It had been a long time coming and he felt so happy that he had finally managed to tell her the truth.

...

He had said it. Finally after all those years and missed chances, standing in a hospital room doorway, unshaven and bleary eyed, Jackson Brodie had told her loved her.

"You love me, do you, Jackson?" She said, smiling. It felt strange, saying these words to Jackson, but a good strange. A great strange, in fact. "Well you took your bloody time." She started laughing after she finished talking. She'd dreamt about this moment and now it was actually happening, Louise couldn't quite believe it. He moved out of the doorway towards her. "Jackson?" She said, quietly, knowing her own revelation was still on the cards. She still needed to say those three little words. Hearing Jackson say them, however, had given her confidence. More confidence in her feelings than she had ever had.

"Hm?" He murmured, moving even closer to her.

"I think I might love you too." There. She said it. Louise felt wonderful, better than she had for days. Everything seemed clearer to her now. Why had they not done this before, before all the heartache, before Tessa and Patrick? Because they had both felt this way, even then.

"Do you?" He said, smiling, finally getting to her. She had to resist the urge to reach out and grab him. Oh, god, she loved him so much.

"Yeah," she admitted, softly. "Don't think this means I'm not still pissed at you for pretending to be my husband," Louise added, a moment later. She was surprised to feel tears pricking her eyelids, but she knew it was from joy. She was happier than she'd been in a long time – Louise realised that from the time she'd first met Jackson up until a few minutes ago, she'd been stuck in a rut. A rut only Jackson could get her out of.

And he had.

Louise still had no clue about love. No, not a single one. But then again, she didn't think Jackson did either. They'd learnt together, of that she was sure. And she couldn't wait.

"Right," Jackson said. He leant down and rested his forehead on hers. Louise's breath was taken away by the contact. Her whole body was tingling with happiness. Why the hell had they waited so long for something this good? "How about I stop pretending?" It took her a second to actually compute was he was saying, and then another to believe that she had heard him correctly.

"Are you proposing to me, Mr Brodie?" She asked, her voice on the verge of shaking. So was she, really, with all the pent up emotion that was coming flowing out.

She had no clues about marriage, either – her only attempt had ended in disaster, but she had a feeling that if she married Jackson, like she thought he was asking her too, then things would different. Happier. Less regrets. Oh, she had so many regrets about Patrick and their marriage.

Not their wedding as such. No, she still stood by that. No big occasion, no crowds of people she didn't know, no food she didn't like, no dancing – absolutely no dancing. Chocolate cake, though. Louise had put her foot down over that and she'd still had to compromise, having half a fruit cake – _it's_ _traditional, Louise, we must continue with the tradition_, she could hear Patrick telling her even now – and half a chocolate cake, even at their small little wedding. Good for Louise, Jackson looked like a chocolate cake type of guy to her. 

"Yes, Ms Munroe, I think I am." He leant down and kissed her and Louise's heart flipped.

And for once, she was glad.

...

"Archie's coming down." Jackson had forgotten to tell her this piece of quite vital information in the rush that followed his return to her hospital room. He was sitting on hard plastic chair and Louise was sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing him. On the bed next to Louise was a pile of cards and they both were clutching their respective hands. They were playing two-player whist, a game Jackson had picked up when in the army. He'd spent fifteen minutes trying - and for a while, failing – to teach Louise the basics, but at some point a hour ago, she'd mastered the game, and was giving Jackson – a seasoned veteran at the game – a real run for his money.

Louise played her card before she replied. "I thought he had his exams."

"Finished them, apparently."

"Okay," Louise said, as Jackson laid his own card. Louise's face broke out in a wide smile. "I win, Jackson, I think you'll find." He stared at the cards and realised that she was correct, she had managed to accumulate the thirteen points needed to win.

Jackson grumbled and started to gather up the cards. "It's only your first victory, Louise. I believe I have won every other game."

"Admit it, Jackson, I'm better than you. Apprentice and the master, and all that..." Louise said, stretching out on the bed and yawning. Jackson stared at her, still wondering if the whole afternoon had been a dream, and he would wake up in a few minutes and everything would be as it was.

But it wasn't a dream.

He dealt the cards again.

...

Louise had always thought that no matter how she felt, she would never say the words, or have them said to her by Jackson. And yet they had. She smiled. Things were looking up for them, for once.

"Jackson?" She said, quietly. She was lying back in bed again, for Jackson had announced he was never going to play two-man whist with her again. Louise had won one game too many for Jackson's liking. "Where did you come from?"

"Yorkshire?" He replied, flashing her a quizzical look.

"No. I mean, where you in London when the hospital called?" Louise asked. It was something she had been wondering about for a while now. She wanted to know if he had crossed the country to visit her – because it was a long old way.

"No," Jackson said. "I've been staying in Edinburgh for the last couple of months." It was Louise's turn to give him a confused look. Why was Jackson living in Edinburgh?

"Why?" She asked, hoping if he'd answer one thing and knowing with almost certainty that he wouldn't.

"I was on a train and I couldn't get off," Jackson said, shrugging. Not what she wanted him to say. "And you were here. That's always a good thing," He added, smiling back at her. That was more like it.

"Is it?" Louise wasn't meaning to say what she did, but it just slipped out.

"Yes, Louise. Yes it is," Jackson replied, reaching out and taking her hand. "Where are you living at the moment?" He asked, a moment later, and it took a second for Louise to actually understand what he was asking her.

"Somewhere," She answered, her turn to shrug. Louise didn't want to answer Jackson's question, mainly because she was living in a hotel and she didn't want to admit this to Jackson. When Patrick had gone to America, the divorce hadn't been finalised, but one of the things that had been was that Patrick wanted the house. Louise had let him have it. It had never been her home. If she was being honest she hadn't had a home in a long time. She wondered if with Jackson she would find a home. "My divorce is proving to be...interesting," Louise added, giving him a small smile.

"Oh, they always do," Jackson said, effortlessly putting her at ease. "Louise?"

"Yeah?" She replied, softly.

"Do you want to live with me?" Jackson stumbled over his words and she realised that he was finding it hard to ask this question. "My flat's not up to much but-"

"Yes," Louise said it without a second thought. She didn't need to think about it. "I think you'll just about make up for any dodgy appliances," Louise added, a moment later, turning to face him, lying on her side, propped up on her elbow. "I don't know how to do this, Jackson," she admitted, softly. It was the truth, the complete truth. Louise didn't have a clue. Her one foray into a serious relationship – Patrick - had ended in disaster. But with Jackson, with Jackson, she had a feeling it might all be okay.

"That's okay. I don't know anything either," he replied, smiling at her. "We can learn together. Okay?" Louise couldn't help but smile back at him, at his words that made the dread in her stomach go away. She could tell that both of them were just as clueless as each other, and, despite their decades of life experience, both them felt like this was something new, different, _worth it._ All Louise wondered, and had been wondering ever since Jackson had returned, was why they had waited this long. In the back of her head, Louise knew why. It was because she was afraid of what losing this might do to her. A strange thing to be scared of when they'd only just started, but then again, she always was one to see the bad slant of a situation.

"Yeah, Jackson," she replied. Louise stared at him for a long moment afterwards, just watching his face. Then she leant forward and put her hand on his cheek and kissed him, gently at first, and slowly it grew more passionate with every passing second, as if someone had lit her fire in her stomach and the fire was spreading, to the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Jackson pulled away and smiled at her.

"God," Louise had the feeling she was floating in midair and she wondered if the rest of her life would be like this, so full of joy. "I love you so much."

"Gretna Green." Louise said, a moment later, when Jackson had picked up the pack of cards – given to him by a kind nurse – and started shuffling them. "I think we should elope. Me and you with no one else." She paused, considering her words. "Unless you would like Archie and Marlee to be there, of course," Louise added after a beat had passed. She saw a strange look pass over Jackson's face and waited to see what his reply would be. When he didn't say anything for a long moment, Louise suddenly wondered if was having second thoughts. Oh, god, she hoped not. Hoped with every fibre of her body, with everything she had. She hoped that he hadn't realised just what he was getting into, that being with her would be too hard, that-

Her thoughts were stopped dead in their tracks by Jackson speaking. "I have a son." Of all the things she was expecting him to say, announcing to her that he had fathered another child was not top of the list.

"Thank god," Louise said, quietly, and hoped Jackson didn't hear her. He didn't, instead just remaining in place, as he had been. "What's he called?" She asked, turning her head on its side, thinking about who Jackson's son's mother could be. It couldn't be Tessa, could it? No, she'd run off into the sunset with his money. Even if she'd be pregnant, Louise highly doubted she'd return because of it. Tessa was the only one of Jackson's exes she could name, which was why she had popped into her head at Jackson's revelation that he had a child. A son. A son who would follow in his footsteps, grow up to be just as good a man as his father was. She wondered if Jackson's son would search for his own lost girls, just as Jackson did, but Louise thought that maybe lost girls were a unique Jackson thing.

Then it hit her. When Jackson had crashed into his life for the first time, he'd had a pregnant girlfriend, hadn't he? Louise casted her mind back to what had happened and remembered that a few days after Jackson had left Edinburgh, left her, for the first time, and they'd kept in contact through the medium of text, he had told her that his girlfriend – an 'actress', hadn't he said? – had dumped him and told him the baby wasn't his.

Louise guessed that she'd been lying.

"His name is Nathan and he'd three years old," Jackson said, quietly. "He likes dinosaurs and the Romans and the Science Museum in London. He's been there four times now, despite the fact Julia – that's his mum – lives outside York. He likes the flashing lights, I think," Jackson added, a moment later. The timeline fit with the girlfriend she remembered. Louise conjured an image in her head of Jackson's son, of Nathan. In her mind, the boy had his father's smile and eyes, but a mop of blonde hair. Was this Julia blonde? Louise didn't know. She had a feeling, if she and Jackson went through with their plan, that she'd find out.

"Right," she said, putting her hands together. "And do you want him to come to Gretna Green?" Louise said, smiling, lying back down on her bed.

"We're going to Gretna Green?" Jackson replied, sounding surprised. "I was thinking more Vegas." She knew he wasn't being serious, joking with her. She was surprised with how natural it felt.

"Gretna Green is closer. Probably cheaper too," Louise replied, after a small pause. "How..." She stumbled over her words. "When do you want to get married, Jackson?" That particular combination of words felt wonderful coming out her mouth after all this time.

"As soon as possible," he replied in a heartbeat. "And if you want it to just be us, then it can just be us. We can tell our children afterwards. Have a party or something." Louise smiled at the sincerity in his tone.

"We'll need to wait until my divorce from Patrick comes through. It'll be another couple of months," she said, grimacing. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine. Just as long I can marry you afterwards."

"So should I start calling you my fiancé now, Jackson?" Her tone was playful, but underneath them was complete shock that she was actually saying the words out loud. That all of this wasn't a dream.

"Only until I take you to Gretna Green and make you my wife, Louise," he replied, making her heart soar. "Though, after the divorce, we will have to wait fifteen days." He mused, quietly.

"How do you know it'll take fifteen days?"

"That's how long you have to wait. You can't just pitch up and get married anymore. Disappointingly."

"How the hell do you know that, Jackson?" Louise asked, in reply.

"I looked it up once," he said, shrugging. When Louise looked at him with a quizzical look on her face, he raised her hands and said, "I was bored. I am nearly half a century old, Louise. Us old men get bored sometimes," he continued, a moment later.

"You're not old, Jackson. At least not to me." Louise blinked after she spoke, wincing slightly, because her side had suddenly started hurting again. It was a painful reminder that just a few short days ago she'd been involved in a hideous car crash, which had taken the lives of several people. But not her. Here she was, a few days later, planning a wedding that Louise had always thought would never happen.

She was happy. More than happy, in fact. She was ecstatic.

"Do you want to play whist again?" The look on Jackson's face told her everything she needed to know.

...

Louise had roped him into playing a game she called pontoon, but that Jackson knew from his time in the Army as blackjack, or close enough. A few of the rules were different, but he already had the basics. He knew he should never have accepted her offer of a friendly card game, because to Jackson the words 'friendly' and 'card game' were mutually exclusive. She was beating him. Again. Who knew Louise Munroe was so good at cards? Definitely not Jackson, at least.

"Twist," he said, despite the fact he had eighteen with the cards already in his hand. The aim of the game was to get twenty-one points, anything over and you went bust. Jackson nearly closed his eyes when Louise – the banker – turned over a card and handed it to him. It was the ten of diamonds. Crap. He was bust. Again. For the fourth time in a row. He put his cards down on the table, sighing.

"Bust again, Jackson?" Louise asked, with a twinkle in her eyes, and a soft voice.

"Yeah. But it doesn't matter," he said, hurriedly. He looked up at Louise as she handed him the cards and he started to shuffle. She looked pale and Jackson wondered if she was okay. She certainly didn't look so good. "Do you want to lie down, Louise? It's late and you don't look to good." He was remembering that in the morning, she'd be released from the hospital and he wanted her to be okay for that.

Louise nodded and mumbled something and Jackson realised that things were really not looking good. "Jackson?" He heard her say weakly and he stood and leant over her, his hand hovering by the emergency button. He had a feeling something was going badly wrong and dread was turning his stomach into knots. They said she was okay. The doctor had told them himself that she was fine. She was going home tomorrow, for God's sake. In a few weeks, they were going to get married. At Gretna Green. Just like they planned too.

Except Louise's eyes wouldn't focus on his anymore. She'd been okay just a few minutes ago, just a little tired. But that obviously wasn't what it was. "Louise, Louise, hang on in there." She reached out at him and her fingers brushed his face and she said something quietly that meant absolutely nothing to Jackson, but he assumed did to her.

"Do you like chocolate cake?" He reached out and put his hands on either side of her face.

"Yes, Louise, I love it," he replied, smiling despite the worry that was trying to choke him and the tears threatening to fall because something was seriously wrong. She shut her eyes and Jackson was gripped by panic. Louise had to open her eyes. She had to open her eyes and tell him he was an idiot for worrying so much. "I'm here, Louise. Look at me, I'm here, okay?" But he knew it was no use. Louise had gone somewhere he couldn't follow. He just hoped it was to land of unconsciousness and not death. Jackson couldn't help but reach out a hand and take her pulse. As he did so he watched the rhythmic up and down of her chest, hawkeyed. A few seconds later, his fingers detected the steady thump of her heartbeat.

So she wasn't dead then.

Jackson finally came to his senses and slammed his fist down on the emergency button.

...

Her head hurt. It was pounding and the pain in her side hadn't gone away like she'd thought it would. It was getting worse, and it was almost too much to bare. But Louise was a fighter, so she gritted her teeth and bared it.

"Twist," Jackson said, and Louise grinned and handed him a card. She was almost certain he'd go bust on this go – it wasn't much of a leap of faith. Jackson nearly always went bust. He couldn't really play. He put his cards down and sighed.

"Bust again, Jackson?" She said, teasing him, and enjoying herself rather too much, but she didn't care. For once, things between them weren't strained or difficult, they were easy. Natural.

She was trying to concentrate on Jackson's reply, but the pain in her side flared again and she had to resist the urge to shout out. Louise bit her lip instead. Her head still hurt, and as she blinked, her vision started to go strange. Jackson said something about lying down and Louise mumbled a reply. "Yep. Sounds like a good plan." But her voice was weak and shaky and not like her at all. Oh, crap, this wasn't good. She lay down on the bed, her limbs feeling like concrete.

Something hit her. There was something she needed to ask Jackson. Something about their wedding. Their wedding. What a beautiful sentence. Their wedding, Jackson and Louise's wedding.

"Jackson?" Louise said, and her voice was still weak. She was scared about what happening, but then Jackson's face loomed into her field of vision and she no longer felt so scared. Jackson was here. Jackson wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

"Louise, Louise, hang on in there," he said, what seemed to be quietly, but his head couldn't be more than a few centimetres away. Then she suddenly remembered what it was she needed to ask him. It was so important, Louise had to know what his answer would be.

"Do you like chocolate cake, Jackson?" Louise reached out a hand and felt her fingers brush his cheek. She felt her muscles relax after that. In return, he put a hand on each of her cheeks.

"Yes, Louise, I love it." That was good to know. No, it was wonderful. Jackson wasn't going to be like Patrick and stop her from having chocolate cake at their wedding. Her eyelids felt heavy and then Jackson started to move away from her, becoming distant, like she was looking down a telescope. Her heart screamed out for Jackson to come back, to hold her again.

But he didn't, and then the darkness claimed her.

The last thing Louise thought was that it wasn't fair. They said she was going to be fine.

...

There is nothing quite so unsettling as seeing a grown man cry, Julia thought to herself, as she entered the dark hospital room, Nathan hung over her shoulder like a blanket. The poor boy had fallen asleep in the car and Julia hadn't had the heart to wake him up. It was way passed his bedtime anyway. There was an empty hospital bed in the centre of the room, and it was there she put Nathan down. He was still fast asleep, despite being carried up here all the way from the car. Children, eh?

Jackson was sitting with his head in his hands, on the cold plastic chair by the bed. Julia took the seat next to him. She could see the glittering reflection of tears on his cheeks and she couldn't help but put her arm around his shoulders.

She was still unsure as to why she was here. When Jackson had called her at nine o'clock at night and had sobbed into the phone, Julia had realised that he needed a friend. And his son. It had been a good journey here, only two hours and a quarter, but it still had been long and Nathan – unsurprisingly, having been woken from a deep sleep - had to be dragged to the car because '_daddy was having some problems and they needed to help him'. _

"What have the doctors said?" On the phone, Julia had gathered that Jackson's 'friend' had been rushed into emergency surgery, due to some reason that he hadn't told her. Or maybe he hadn't even known himself.

"Internal bleeding," he replied, curtly.

"And is she out of surgery yet?" Julia asked, quietly, well aware that there was a sleeping three year-old lying on the bed next to them.

"Yeah," Jackson breathed. "They won't let me see her." Julia could hear that sadness in her ex's tone and not for the first time, realised how hard this was hitting him. It was knocking him for six. "How's Nathan?" Jackson asked, suddenly, reaching out and gently stroking his son's arm. "I'm sorry, I should have asked sooner-"

"Jackson, this is about you. Not me and Nathan."

"Thank you," he replied, a moment later, into the silence of the room. Julia had never seen Jackson looking that this, looking this upset or defeated. She didn't know what was going to happen. She felt out of her depth, confused, because Jackson had always been the rock, but now he was falling apart and Julia didn't know what to do.

The door to the gloomy room swung open and a small, blonde nurse entered, and looked surprised when she saw the two new occupants of the room. "Julia Land," she said, standing up and shaking the hand of the newly arrived nurse. "And this is my son, Nathan," she added a moment later, seeing the nurse's glance fall on the young boy in the bed.

"Oh," the nurse replied, nodding her head. "Mr Brodie," she continued, turning to face Jackson, who was had put his head in his hands again. "the doctors have said you can see your wife now." Julia raised her eyebrow as the nurse nodded again and left the room.

"Wife?" She said, sitting back down next to Jackson.

"There was a miscommunication somewhere," he replied, shrugging.

"And you haven't been bothered to tell them that you're not married? Not even together in fact?" Jackson shrugged again and Julia remembered quite why he annoyed her so much.

"Gretna Green," Jackson mumbled, quietly, standing up and she frowned yet again.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She muttered in reply.

Julia saw him take a deep breath and then reply. "We were going to elope." His words surprised her and Julia gave him a sad smile. She also thought to herself that elope was a very good word. Perfect for its meaning. Running away to get married. Jackson was running away with a woman called Louise to get married.

Julia had thought she'd feel a twinge of regret, of sadness at this revelation, but to her surprise, there was nothing. She wanted him to be happy and if this woman made him happy, then Julia was fine with it.

"I thought you told me you weren't together," she replied, a moment later, as Jackson put his hand on the door handle.

"Things change."

Jackson opened the door.

...

Her head was pounding yet again and it felt like her side was on fire. For a second, Louise wondered if she was stuck in the darkness again, but her limbs didn't feel like weights. She opened her eyes. Always a good sign, that.

Louise was in another place, not the nice little room where she'd spent the last afternoon with Jackson. Jackson! Where was he? She looked over the room and saw various medical professionals moving around the room but no Jackson. Louise tried to sit up but the pain in her side flared. A doctor appeared and started talking to her, but the pain was too bad and she couldn't concentrate.

She closed her eyes, just for a second, because she was so tired. "Louise? Louise?" A stranger's voice rang out and she opened her eyes. She wanted Jackson, wanted him so badly. Things had finally started happening between them just before... Just before what? Louise couldn't remember. The doctor addressed her again. "Louise, you've just had surgery. I wouldn't recommend sitting up anytime soon," he said, wryly. "You had some internal bleeding. We think that in the crash you nicked something and over the last few days, it's been steadily leaking blood. Yesterday it finally got too much and we had to take you into surgery. We completed the operation and we think you're going to be okay." That was what they'd said to her last time. She took it with a pinch of salt this time.

"Jackson?" She asked and her voice sounded shaky.

"He can't be here at the moment, but the moment he can, we'll go get him," the doctor said, smiling broadly at her. She nodded.

She was tired, so very tired, and sleep was calling out to her. Not the darkness, and for that Louise was grateful. She had a feeling that the darkness was behind her, at least for now. The pillow under her head was soft, as was the bed, and a few seconds later, even with all the bustling in the room, she fell asleep.

...

He gripped the door handle with quiet panic. Julia was standing at his shoulder, Nathan held in her grasp, but it still wouldn't turn in his hand. "Are you alright, Jackson?" Julia asked, and he nodded, turning the handle with a force it didn't merit. He took a couple of strides into the room and took a seat next to her bed.

The doctors had specifically told him that she was just sleeping this time, that she wasn't unconscious. Jackson couldn't see the difference. She looked pale and drawn, and he would have reached out and taken her hand but the fact Julia was in the room stopped him.

Don't get him wrong, he was happy Julia was here, for it had given him focus during these last few minutes that wasn't just Louise. That had helped. But Julia...Julia was Julia and she could be a bit overwhelming sometimes. Scratch that, quite a lot of the time. Surprisingly, she'd been alright so far and for that Jackson was thankful.

Julia took the seat next to him and they sat in silence for a moment, Nathan sitting on his mother's lap. Jackson leant over and ruffled his son's hair, unable to help himself. Despite what Julia had said earlier, he felt guilty that she and Nathan had been dragged from their beds just because Jackson didn't have anyone else.

Nathan stirred for a second and Jackson mentally kicked himself for waking him up. It was late, nearly midnight, not a suitable time for a three year-old to be awake. Julia gave him a look that said '_well done_' but it was without its usual edge of harshness. When Nathan opened his eyes, Julia spoke to him quietly, as Jackson turned back to Louise. He stood and leant over her, smiling sadly down at her sleeping form. He moved some hair out of her eyes, as Julia explained to Nathan what they were doing in a hospital Edinburgh in the middle of the night.

Jackson sat back down and a moment later, a now fully awake three year-old started tugging at his legs. He picked his son up and sat him on his knees. "Mummy said you knew who the lady in the bed was," Nathan said, turning his little head and staring straight at Jackson.

"Yes, I do," he answered, giving his son a smile.

"Who is she?" Before Jackson could answer Nathan's question, however, he spoke again. "Is she going to die?" He whispered, but not very well. In Jackson's experience, small children were incapable of saying anything quietly.

"No, she's not going to die, darling," Julia cut in, smiling widely at her son and Jackson was glad for the interruption. It meant he had a few more seconds to formulate what he would tell his son about Louise.

"Nathan?" Jackson started, getting his son's attention because it had been taken by the beeping machine next to Louise's head. Nathan reluctantly turned back to him. "You know the Mummy is married-" Jackson didn't get any further because Julia gave him a swift elbow to the ribs and it took him a few seconds to realise why. "Oh," he said, finally understanding. "You know that Mummy used to be married to Jonathan?" Jackson asked his son. No elbow to the ribs this time.

Nathan nodded overenthusiastically and Jackson couldn't help but smile.

"And you know he lived with you?" His son nodded again, just as violently. "Well, Louise – who is the lady in the bed – and I are going to get married soon. That means that when you'll come visit me-"

Nathan cut in then. "Like I did at Christmas?"

"Yes, like you did at Christmas," Jackson answered. "It means that when you visit me, Louise will be there too, because we're going to live together."

"So I guess you're Sad Daddy because she's hospital," Nathan replied, smiling as if he knew a big secret.

"Yes, Nathan, I'm Sad Daddy." His son nodded, his face curled into a frown of thought. A second later, he reached out and put his little arms around Jackson and hugged him.

"Do you feel better, Daddy?" He asked and Jackson smiled at his son. He was beautiful.

"Of course, Nathan." His son nodded again, and then he leant back on Jackson's chest and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, Nathan was fast asleep. He looked at Julia and saw her mouth the word '_sorry'_.

Jackson sighed. He wondered when Louise would wake up. He wondered if she'd like his son.

...


	4. Chapter 4

When Louise woke up, she felt refreshed. The pain in her side had dulled to a barely noticeable ache. She didn't open her eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool pillow against her cheek, and they were still closed when she heard the door open. She could hear two pairs of footsteps, so she resisted the urge to open her eyes. Anyway, she was still tired. She could do with a few minutes undisturbed.

Louise heard the sounds of two people sitting down in the chairs next to her bed, and wondered who they were. She hoped that one was Jackson, but she didn't know. Louise didn't have a clue who the second person could be. Maybe it was Archie?

She heard a chair slightly scrape the floor, moving, and then the gentle whispers of quiet conversation. Louise couldn't make out a word, but could tell the voice belonged to a woman. What woman, she didn't know. Not Archie, then. A moment later, Louise heard someone stand up and take a step towards her. She hoped it was Jackson. The woman was still talking quietly, as someone – Jackson, she guessed, hoped – reached down and brushed the hair that had fallen over her face as she slept out of her eyes. From the gentle touch, Louise was almost certain it was Jackson.

A second passed, and then he was gone. Louise wanted to sigh, but she didn't.

"Mummy said you knew who the lady in the bed was," a small voice said, quietly. Louise would have guessed the child was about three or four years old. Then it hit her. Jackson's son. The question was why was he here at the hospital?

"Yes, I do," Jackson replied, and for no apparent reason, Louise felt better just hearing his voice.

"Who is she?" The boy asked, Nathan, Louise reminded herself – if indeed this boy was his son. Jackson didn't get to reply because Nathan asked him another question before he could. "Is she going to die?" He asked, attempting to do a whisper, in just the way Archie had done when he was that age. Safe to say, it was no quieter than normal speech.

"No, she's not going to die, darling," a woman murmured, cutting in, before Jackson could say a word. This must be Julia, Nathan's mother, Louise reasoned. Why the both of them were here still eluded her. Maybe Jackson had asked them to come. Moral support or something. Needed because she'd slipped in unconsciousness and been rushed into surgery. Louise knew that couldn't have been nice for him.

"Nathan?" Jackson said, quietly. There, Louise had it confirmed that the young boy was his son. "You know the Mummy is married-" Jackson started, and Louise relaxed her muscles, not intending to eavesdrop, but not having the energy to open her eyes and say, '_hey, look, I'm awake'_ or at least not yet. And she wanted to hear how Jackson answered his son's question. "Oh," he said, sounding like he had just understood something, and Louise wondered what it was. "You know that Mummy used to be married to Jonathan?" She nearly smirked. Jackson's ex's marriage didn't sound like it had ended successfully.

"And you know he lived with you?" He paused, obviously waiting for a response. "Well, Louise – who is the lady in the bed – and I are going to get married soon." Louise gave a small smile at Jackson's words. They still sounded so strange, but a good strange. She and Jackson were getting married. Soon. She felt elated. "That means that when you'll come visit me-"

"Like I did at Christmas?" Nathan interrupted.

"Yes, like you did at Christmas," Jackson said, and Louise could imagine his son nodding in reply. "It means that when you visit me, Louise will be there too, because we're going to live together." Her heart flipped again, and Louise almost chastised herself, but then realised she didn't need to. She and Jackson were _together._ It was allowed.

"So I guess you're Sad Daddy because she's hospital," Nathan said, and Louise smiled again.

"Yes, Nathan, I'm Sad Daddy," Jackson admitted a moment later, in reply to his son's words.

There were sounds of movement, but Louise didn't know what was happening. "Do you feel better, Daddy?" Nathan said, a couple of seconds later.

"Of course, Nathan." Then everything went quiet. A few moments she heard Jackson sigh. She wondered if he was alright.

Louise shifted in the bed, the pain in her side flaring a little - but not a lot, nothing to be worried about - and a beat later, she heard Jackson speak quietly, addressing her. "Louise?" Her eyes flickered open and she saw Jackson, sitting back in his chair, a three-year old asleep on in his lap. She couldn't see Jackson's son's face, but what she could see was a mop of blonde hair and Louise was surprised how like her imaginings he was. Sitting next to them was a blonde woman who looked a little awkward, if Louise was being honest. Then again, if the situation was flipped, Louise would feel awkward. "Hey," he said, talking quietly because of the sleeping child on his lap.

"Hey, Jackson. I take it the little man on your lap is Nathan?" She asked, even though she already knew the answer. For some reason, Louise didn't want Jackson to know she just listened in on their conversation. "And this is Julia?" Louise asked, sitting up in bed, her side feeling a little sore, but much better than it had done earlier when she'd woken up to doctors rushing around the room.

"Yeah..." Julia replied, flashing Louise a smile. She could see how this woman was an actress, she had a natural charm and a lovely smile. "Nice to meet you, Louise."

She nodded, then her gaze darted away from Jackson's ex and she stared at her hands. "I called Julia after you went into surgery. I was worried." He shrugged. Louise wanted to reach out and hold him, but the small boy in his lap made that impossible. "Are you okay? Have the doctors explained what happened?" She nodded.

"I think I should go check into a hotel now, Jackson," Julia said and then she stood up and reached over and jogged Nathan's arm. On her face, Louise could see the look every parent gets when they wake a child up from deep sleep and you're not sure how they're going to react. Louise had made the face herself, many times, when she had woken Archie. He had usually been a good tempered child, but not where waking up was concerned. As he got older, it had got worse. In the few hard years before Archie had gone to boarding school – something which had broken her heart, but was needed if Archie was to get the best out of life – she had stopped considering what would happen if she woke him when he didn't want to be, and just woke him. She hadn't cared anymore. You would have thought that by the age of fifteen, he would have been able to wake himself up, but no. Archie always was asleep when he was supposed to be awake and was always awake when he was supposed to be asleep. Wasn't that the way teenagers worked?

Julia saw Louise watching her and spoke quietly, as Nathan started to wake up at his mother's insistent hand. "He can sleep anywhere. On anyone," she said, smiling down at her son.

"Oh, they grow out of that." Louise said, gently, staring at Jackson, who was holding a sleepy Nathan to his chest now.

"I'll take him down to the car," Jackson said, standing and crossing to the doorway.

"You have kids?" Julia said, sounding just a little frazzled as she gathered her stuff and joined Jackson in the doorway.

"One." Louise smiled, thinking about her own little boy, who now was not quite so little. Massive, in fact. Taller than her. Jackson had told her that Archie was coming down, that he'd finished his exams. "He's seventeen. Archie," she said, quietly. She loved her son. For years, right up until she met Jackson, Archie had been the only person she had ever loved in her entire life. She loved him so much that it hurt and the idea of something happening to him... Louise shook her head. She couldn't let herself think about that.

Louise thought back to when she had discovered she was pregnant. She'd been twenty-two, a PC, young, naive. She'd been stupid to sleep with Michael in the first place, but to be pregnant as well? It was almost beyond belief. Louise had been scared too. She didn't think she'd love her child, hadn't believed that she would, hadn't wanted to love someone more than the world - she had only realised that she didn't get a choice in the matter when the tiny little bundle that was her newborn son had been handed to her and she had cradled him in her arms. Had known then that she loved him and she'd loved him ever since.

Michael Pirie didn't know he had a teenage son. Archie didn't know that he'd been the product of a shameful one-night stand. Things were better that way.

Julia gave her a nod and then disappeared out the door. Jackson stood in the doorway for a second, his son's arms hooked over his neck. He smiled and then he too disappeared.

Louise lay back down on her pillows. She sighed, but it was a sigh of relief. Things were going to be alright after all.

...

Jackson lifted Nathan carefully into the car and did up his seat belt. His son was still asleep and he leant into the car and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Julia was standing by the driver's door. "Jackson?" She asked, as he shut the car door and came to stand next to her, his breath clouding in the cold night air. "Her husband," Julia started. "is he her son's father?"

Jackson shook his head. "I don't know who Archie's father is." He shrugged. "I think it might have been a one-night-stand." He breathed out again, his breath swirling in the dark of the night, only illuminated by the car park lights. "I don't think he knows, Archie's dad, that he got her pregnant." Louise had never talked about her son's father or her pregnancy, but knowing her as he did, he got the distinct impression that Louise had gone through it on her own. "She was only married a couple of years. An orthopaedic surgeon called Patrick." Jackson shook his head again, kicking off against the car and moving away. "Thanks for coming, Julia. I really appreciate it."

"It's alright. Nathan's been nagging me for weeks to see you some more, so I don't think it'll be a bad thing. Anyway, I want to take a look at the city. The last time I was here I didn't take in properly." She paused, and Jackson could see the glint in her eye that meant there was another question coming. "I think you did, Jackson. I think you found some things you really liked." Julia smirked, moving away from the car herself. She opened the car door and turned back to him. "You met her when we came here together, didn't you? When I was in that dreadful play and you killed that dog." Trust Julia to remember the dog. And anyway, he hadn't killed the dog. It had just died in his presence. It wasn't fair really.

Jackson nodded. "I'll see you soon, then." Julia got in the car and started the engine. She gave him a wave and then she was gone, driving away into the dark night.

He watched the car leave the car park and then he turned back to the hospital. Louise was waiting for him.

...

She had been drifting in and out of sleep for the last forty-five minutes. Jackson had arrived back in the room a while ago, kissing her on the forehead and telling her to go to sleep. He'd fallen asleep himself a few minutes later, sitting at an awkward angle on the hard plastic chair.

Louise was watching him sleep now, having just woken up again. Having slept for hours this evening already, she was finding it hard to sleep now. Jackson looked sweet asleep, but he also looked like he was doing his neck some serious damage sleeping with it at such a strange angle.

She was thinking about how much of a difference a day made. She and Jackson were instantly more comfortable in each other's presence now that their feelings were out in the open. Louise stared at him again, imaging their future, the future that was now lying in front of them.

When Louise fell asleep a few moments later, she was happier than she'd been for a long time.

...

Jackson sat down on the seat next to Louise's bed, clutching his steaming hot cup of coffee. She was asleep in the bed, curled into foetal position, and Jackson smiled at it. She looked so...so innocent when she slept.

He took a sip of his coffee, but it was too hot and he scalded the inside of his mouth. Jackson was thinking about the phone call he had just made to Julia. Apparently, she was taking Nathan to see Edinburgh Castle, and tomorrow on the agenda was Arthur's Seat. He wasn't sure what you could with a three year-old at Arthur's Seat, but he was sure if anyone could come up with something, it would be Julia.

In the last two days, she'd already taken Nathan to Edinburgh Zoo and they'd climbed up to see the Scott Monument, all while Jackson and Louise were still stuck in the hospital. He remembered clearly how glad he'd felt the last time they said she could go home, just before the second half of the nightmare had started, with impeccable timing, the night before she would have been free.

He sighed and took another sip of his coffee. Louise stirred in the bed and then opened her eyes. Jackson never thought he'd be so relieved to ever see a person open their eyes, and yet, every time Louise did, his heart fluttered little, as the fear that she wouldn't wake up again disappeared. He still remembered her days of unconsciousness with a vividness that wouldn't leave him alone every time she went to sleep.

"Hey," Jackson said quietly, as Louise looked at him, bleary-eyed.

"Hey," she replied, quietly.

"I spoke to the doctor." Jackson had run into him returning from buying his coffee. "He said that if you're still okay later, we can go home," he continued, smiling widely. Louise smiled back, matching his almost exactly.

"What are Julia and Nathan doing today?" She asked, propping herself up in bed. Over the last two days, Louise had been steadily recovering. That wasn't saying that when she got home, things would be over – they wouldn't. This trip to the hospital would have long reaching consequences, at least for the next few months. Louise wouldn't be able to go back to work for a good three to four weeks, and even then, she would be on desk duty for a week or so after that.

This had disgruntled Louise, but she knew it was needed. She had grumbled about there being criminals out there she needed to catch and if Jackson wouldn't let her, she'd do it herself. The criminals wouldn't just stop because she'd been put in hospital. Both she and Jackson knew she was bluffing, but the point was still the same. Louise would be going back to work as soon as possible.

"They're going to the Castle today." They both nodded after his words. "My flat isn't that big," he started, feeling like for some reason that he had to justify his small poky flat to Louise, even though he was sure she didn't mind that much. "The fridge is dreadful and you have to give the taps a bit of a thump before they work – but at least there are no squirrels eating it," he said, wryly, remembering one of the most bizarre phone calls he had ever had. It had started out with him just wanting to know what a simple sentence meant – real homes for real people, which turned out to be the slogan of Hatter Homes, a building company – and had ended up with Jackson realising for the first time that Louise Munroe was not a morning person and also with the strange revelation that squirrels were eating her real home for real people.

"You remember that?" Louise said, frowning at him. "That was years ago," she added, as if he didn't know.

"Just after we first met," he murmured in reply.

"Yeah...yeah it was," she said, absentmindedly, and Jackson could see she was remembering the days after their lives intersected for the first time, setting in motion a series of events that had, indirectly, led to this very moment. "Did Archie say when exactly he was coming home, because I need to nip back to Patrick's place and get some of my stuff?" Jackson turned his head on to its side, staring at Louise, considering the strange fact she had called the house she had shared with her husband as _Patrick's place_, as if she hadn't spent a year and a half of marriage living there. After a year and a half with him, would she call his place home? God, Jackson hoped so.

"He said he'd come as soon as possible. I don't know what he meant by that, though," Jackson answered, before taking another gulp of his coffee. "You can give him a call when we get out of here," he added a moment later, the hot coffee clutched in his grasp warming his fingers. Louise nodded and then spoke quietly.

"Did you ever find Tessa?" He looked at her and now it was his time to frown.

"As in my ex-wife, Tessa who stole all my money?"

"How many Tessa's do you know, Jackson?" He couldn't help but smile at Louise's words. "Did you manage to track her down?"

"No," he answered, because it was the truth. Tessa had flown into the wind, disappearing from his life with all his money. Not that it really had been his. He corrected himself and instantly felt better about it. Tessa had flown into the wind disappearing from his life with all Binky Rain's money. "Why?"

"It's just...it's just nothing," she said quietly and Jackson instantly knew she was lying.

"Louise?" He said, and he could see her resolve not to tell him what she knew crumbling.

"I remembered where I was going the night I crashed."

"I didn't know you didn't," Jackson replied, frowning again. No, he had never thought to ask if Louise remembered her dreadful crash, the crash that he led to this moment. He had just assumed.

"It was just a blank space. I didn't think much about it," Louise replied. "But then, when I woke up this morning I remembered where I was coming back from." It had been something that had perplexed Jackson, even if he hadn't realised it fully. Louise had been driving in the direction of her house, or Patrick's place, as she called it, at eleven o'clock at night – in the rush of her initial treatment, they had forgotten to ring her next of kin, and as a result Jackson had only been informed three hours after the event, not that it would have done much good. He just would have had more time to worry. Where had she been coming from? Jackson had a feeling she was about to tell him.

"We arrested a guy a few weeks ago," Louise said and he wondered how this connected to the rest of the story – though he wasn't quite sure how Tessa fit in either. "His wife came to collect him. Said her name was Karina, if I'm remembering correctly. Something about it all seemed...seemed similar. Familiar. The bloke had a lot of money. Apparently got it from his mother's life insurance or something. Brand new wife, only a few weeks. He was only arrested for being drunk and disorderly – spending his new cash, he said." Jackson was still frowning, but he had the sense that everything was slowly slotting into place. "I talked to the coppers who handled your case at the time." He smiled. She had been looking out for him back then despite everything that had happened. "Tessa, or whatever her name is, did a spotless job on you. No clues, no leads, nothing," She added, a moment later. "I got in contact with London again and they sent me a picture of your Tessa." Jackson wanted to interrupt and say that Tessa hadn't really been his, but he bit his tongue, letting Louie continue. "She didn't look that much like Karina, but there was something similar. No one wanted to investigate it. She hadn't done anything yet. No one took me seriously. I was right, naturally." She flashed him a smile and he couldn't help but smile back. "That's where I went that night. Karina, or Tessa, or whatever her name actually is, her house. Her husband was out, she didn't tell me where." Louise paused for a second, taking a breath. "I told her I was a police officer, investing something or another. She let me in. When we were settled down, drinking a cup of tea, I asked her about you," Louise continued, and when she saw Jackson's slightly aghast face and shrugged.

"It was ancient history, Louise. I got over it."

"She stole your money."

"Money I never earned."

"That isn't the point, Jackson," Louise said, and Jackson realised he wouldn't be changing her mind anytime soon. "As I said, I asked her about you. She tried to play stupid, like she didn't know anything, but then she realised that the game was up. She admitted everything." Jackson was surprised by that. "Said that you were a fool. I agreed with her, there. Apart from the stealing your money bit, she's a nice lady, your Tessa. I can see why you married her," Louise said, and Jackson, for some strange reason, felt a little embarrassed thinking about Louise and Tessa talking about him. It felt strange, putting their names in the same sentence. He had always strived to keep his two lives separate – Louise and Edinburgh in one, and Tessa and London in another – so combining them felt odd. "We talked for a little and then she asked me what I was going to do. I told her there was nothing I could do."

"You let her go." It was a statement, rather than a question.

"As you said, Jackson, it is ancient history." She gave him a small smile. "Then I got in the car and drove off. I can give you her address if you want. She lives down by the river. Nice house. Rich husband. Doing well for herself." Louise smiled. "You have divorced her, haven't you?"

"Didn't need to. I had grounds to make the whole marriage void. Like it never happened," he replied. Louise nodded. "Do you mind me asking," Jackson started, unsure of whether it was safe to broach this particular subject. "why are you and Patrick getting divorced?"

Louise answered with one word. "You."

...

"Did you ever find Tessa?" Louise asked, changing the subject. She remembered the day she discovered Jackson had married again, in a hospital just like this. He hadn't even thought to tell her. Then again, when she had been engaged, she had only informed her over text, which now sounded quite cruel. Maybe that was why he didn't tell her. Louise wondered how she would have reacted if Jackson had messaged her to tell her he was getting married. Probably just like he had. Move on, get married to someone else and not tell him. All unsuccessfully. She smiled, she and Jackson were more alike than they thought.

"As in my ex-wife, Tessa who stole all my money?" Jackson asked, frowning.

"How many Tessa's do you know, Jackson?" She asked, slightly shaking her head. "Did you manage to track her down?" She asked, wondering what Jackson would reply and yet, knowing almost certainly what he what he would.

"No," Jackson replied. "Why?" He added, confused, a moment later.

She hadn't considered what would happen if Jackson actually asked why she had brought up his ex-wife. "It's just...it's just nothing."

"Louise?" He asked. She cursed internally. She had forgotten that Jackson was able to read her feelings just as clearly as she could read his. He knew she was hiding something.

"I remembered where I was going the night I crashed," she said, quietly, realising that there was no point pretending that there was no reason she had asked about Tessa.

"I didn't know you didn't."

"It was just a blank space. I didn't think much about it," Louise replied, shrugging. "But then, when I woke up this morning I remembered where I was coming back from," She added. It had come back to her bit by bit until now, she had the whole picture. She knew where she had been and where she was coming from. She hadn't intended to tell Jackson, but he had a way of making her tell him things even when she didn't really want to.

"We arrested a guy a few weeks ago," She continued. "His wife came to collect him. Said her name was Karina, if I'm remembering correctly. Something about it all seemed...seemed similar. Familiar. The bloke had a lot of money. Apparently got it from his mother's life insurance or something. Brand new wife, only a few weeks. He was only arrested for being drunk and disorderly – spending his new cash, he said." They smiled at each other and Louise realised for the first time that Jackson must be very confused because the conversation didn't have much to do with her crash or Tessa anymore. But it would. He just had to have patience. "I talked to the coppers who handled your case at the time. Tessa, or whatever her name is, did a spotless job on you. No clues, no leads, nothing." She paused, seeing the red of embarrassment flush slightly in Jackson's cheeks. "I got in contact with London again and they sent me a picture of your Tessa. She didn't look that much like Karina, but there was something similar. No one wanted to investigate it. She hadn't done anything yet. No one took me seriously. I was right, naturally." She said, flashing him a smile. He smiled back and Louise felt strange for a second. They were so natural in each other's company, nothing felt forced or pretend like it had with Patrick. "That's where I went that night. Karina, or Tessa, or whatever her name actually is, her house. Her husband was out, she didn't tell me where." She could remember the evening clearly. Driving through the harsh winter rain to the river. "I told her I was a police officer, investing something or another. She let me in. When we were settled down, drinking a cup of tea, I asked her about you," Louise added. When she saw that Jackson didn't look too happy, she shrugged. There was nothing she could do to change things now. It had happened.

She remembered exactly how she felt when she met Tessa for the first time. Louise had felt a little dull inside because she was the opposite of her in almost every single way, including the fact Tessa was a criminal and Louise was a police officer – though Jackson hadn't known that when he married her. If she hadn't thought it silly, she would have thought it looked like Jackson had gone for her complete opposite when looking for a new wife.

But then again, hadn't she? Wasn't Patrick everything Jackson wasn't? Calm, collected, organised, boring. And that was why she married him, wasn't it? To forget about Jackson – she may not have realised it at the time, but it was simply the only reason she married him. It could have been anyone really, anyone who wasn't Jackson, she would have got together with, because the one feature she was looking for in a man at that time was for them not to be Jackson Brodie. Which meant that there were quite a few candidates.

"It was ancient history, Louise. I got over it," Jackson pointed out and Louise felt like telling him that would have been nice to know _before _she went to Tessa's house. Anyway it didn't matter. She was still a criminal. A criminal who had fleeced Jackson for two million pounds. Jackson might have got over it, but Louise hadn't – though if she hadn't turned out to be a con, they might not be here right now. He'd be with his wife. So, at least one good thing had come out it.

"She stole your money," Louise replied, stating the obvious.

"Money I never earned," he hit back, and Louise realised that Binky Rain's money had been a burden on him - a fortune, maybe, but a fortune he hadn't earned. Someone else had and that had come at a price for Jackson. She can see it from his viewpoint, getting all the money in the world but not having to work a day for it. Some people might be able to live their life doing nothing, but Jackson couldn't. Louise couldn't, either. A life without purpose is not a life worth living – as her mother used to say, usually in a nasty way, for quite a lot of her teenage years when Louise had no clue what she wanted to do with herself.

"That isn't the point, Jackson," she replied, because it wasn't. The point was that she had gone to visit Tessa, because Tessa had stolen all of Jackson's money – regardless of whether he had earned it or not. "As I said, I asked her about you. She tried to play stupid, like she didn't know anything, but then she realised that the game was up. She admitted everything," Louise added, a moment later, shrugging gently. "Said that you were a fool. I agreed with her, there," she continued, smirking. But her words were true. Jackson was a fool, sometimes. She was fool sometimes as well. Wasn't everyone? "Apart from the stealing your money bit, she's a nice lady, your Tessa. I can see why you married her." She could see a slight blush reach Jackson's cheeks at the idea of her and Tessa talking. Swapping their notes. Nothing like that had happened, really, but she smiled at the fact Jackson thought it might have. "We talked for a little and then she asked me what I was going to do. I told her there was nothing I could do."

"You let her go." He sounded a little surprised, but the truth was there was nothing she could have done. Louise shouldn't have even had the files from Jackson's case, shouldn't have known about it, and anyway Karina, or Tessa, hadn't committed a single crime in Edinburgh. At least not yet.

"As you said, Jackson, it is ancient history." Louise paused, shrugging and giving Jackson a small smile. "Then I got in the car and drove off. I can give you her address if you want. She lives down by the river. Nice house. Rich husband. Doing well for herself." She blinked after she finished and then asked a question that had been bugging her for a while now. "You have divorced her, haven't you?" Louise was afraid that Jackson had actually bothered to divorce Tessa, seeing as she went missing and he probably wouldn't get married again, there was no need.

"Didn't need to. I had grounds to make the whole marriage void. Like it never happened." Louise felt relieved at his words. "Do you mind me asking," Jackson started, and she wondered what he was going to ask her. "why are you and Patrick getting divorced?" Of all the questions she was expecting Jackson could ask, why she was getting divorced wasn't very high on the list – no, it actually hadn't even been on the list.

She took a deep breath, all the possible answers to the question running through her head, when she realised it all came to one thing, one word, one person. Louise breathed out and spoke., "You."

"Me?" She smiled at him.

"Yes, you."

"What do you mean?" Jackson asked, after her reply, sounding confused. "I haven't seen you in a year before now, and Patrick went to America nearly a month ago. So how is it my fault you're getting divorced?"

Louise wondered whether she should tell him or not. She sighed and spoke quietly. "He found my texts to you."

"So what?"

"I don't know." Louise breathed out; remembering the day Patrick had found her texts. The argument that had followed. An argument, that despite everything, she had sort of enjoyed. Her marriage had been boring, every day the same, and the argument had brought them to their senses, that they couldn't – shouldn't – have to live like that. "He got angry. Left." She shrugged. "I don't know why. Maybe he... I don't know." It was the truth. Louise didn't know what it was about the texts that had made Patrick get so angry, why they had made him leave. All she did know was that she was relieved when he left. More relieved than she should have been. But she didn't dwell on that, not now, not when Jackson was sitting across from her.

Whenever she looked at him, it was like looking at the sun. He eclipsed everything else, blinding her. But then, for a bit, the moon covered up the sun. She couldn't see him anymore, thought he'd abandoned her. So she settled for the moon, almost by accident. Then the sun came back for a few dazzling days, but afterwards the moon slipped back into place. Except this time, the sun was bleeding through, and the moon was unable to keep him at bay. Then the sun came back out again.

...

The crisp winter's day greeted Jackson with a smile. He blinked in the bright light of the day as he climbed out the car and moved to the other side. He opened the door and saw Louise scowling at him. "I am capable of opening a door by myself," she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm just helping you," he replied, smiling at her. She sighed and took his outstretched hand. Despite the fact Louise said she was fine, she wasn't. This was evidenced by the fact she leant on his side and allowed him to put his arms around her and guide her inside. Louise fumbled in her purse, returned to her along with all her other possessions she had on her at the time of the crash that had survived, and removed her keys. Sadly, a nice mirror Archie had given her for last birthday had been smashed to pieces in her handbag, but apart from that, everything seemed to be in one piece.

Louise and Patrick's house was not what Jackson had been expecting. He had expected something grand, but not quite on this scale. It was a beautiful house, if Jackson was on a good day, ugly if he was not. It was one of those houses that could fall either way. Not too old fashioned and not too modern, it didn't fit comfortably into either category and because of this, its features could be lovely and garish at exactly the same time. Jackson never thought he had ever analysed a house so much.

Now, if he'd ever seen Louise's old house, the one that was being eaten by squirrels, he probably would have analysed that more. But he never had and he never would. Not that he cared that much. There were many more things to be annoyed by. The fact he had never seen Louise's old house was not one of them.

The door to the house swung open and they moved through the doorway, stuck in a strange dance, Jackson holding Louise up, and her trying not to depend on him just as much as she actually needed to. The doctors had told her that she'd been weak for the first few days, or maybe weeks. She had lost a lot of blood, it was to be expected. For Louise, however, it wasn't wanted.

The moved into the kitchen and Louise sat heavily down on a chair. She flashed Jackson a grateful smile as he, without asking, made her a glass of water. She took a thirsty sip. "What do you want then? Clothes, photos, stuff like..." He trailed off, because he heard footsteps on the stairs. From the look on Louise's face, she heard them too. They looked at each other, their eyes meeting and Jackson saw steely determination flash across Louise's eyes.

Louise had her back to the door so Jackson was the first to see the intruder as he ambled up the hall towards them. A dark haired man with thick stubble was walking towards them, a frown on his face. He was wearing a cardigan and looked weary and the first thought that hit Jackson was that he didn't really look like a burglar. "What the hell are you doing in my house?" The man called and he saw confusion flicker across Louise's features. She turned to face the stranger and spoke quietly.

"Patrick?" So this was Patrick. Jackson studied him carefully as he came up the hall towards them. He looked tired and haggard and he wondered if it was recent events that had caused this or if Patrick had always been like this.

"Louise?"

"You're supposed to be in America."

"The conference finished early," he said, almost absentmindedly, as he entered the kitchen. Jackson could see that the other man was trying to look at him, evaluate him, without making it obvious. Patrick was failing. "Would you like to introduce me, Louise?" Patrick continued, gesturing at Jackson.

"Oh, sorry," she said, clearing her throat. "This is Jackson. Jackson meet Patrick. Patrick, Jackson." He saw a flash of jealously strike the other man, but he definitely didn't expect what Patrick did next.

Jackson had Patrick down as a quite mild mannered man, but for a mild mannered man, he had one hell of a punch. He was slammed back by the force of Louise's husband's fist and everything went fuzzy for a second.

"You told me you didn't know where he was," Patrick hissed quietly.

"I didn't."

"Explain why he's in our kitchen then."

"I had a car accident." A frown appeared on Patrick's face again.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"They called Jackson and he turned up at the hospital," Louise explained. "I don't hear a how are you, or are you all right? I just had a car crash, Patrick. I was unconscious for four days and then I had an internal haemorrhage. Sorry I didn't call you to let you know Jackson turned up," She added, sarcastically, after pause. Jackson did think she was being a little harsh, but then again, he didn't know what had happened the last time the couple had talked. He guessed it didn't go well.

"Sorry," Patrick mumbled. He reached out a hand and Jackson took it, warily, and the other man shook it roughly. "Is this you showing me that you've moved on?" Louise's estranged husband asked, quietly, rubbing his stubble, which in turn reminded Jackson that the first thing he needed to do when he got home was shave. He looked a mess. A good mess, however. A happy mess.

"This is me coming to get my stuff," Louise replied.

"And you and him - you're what?" Jackson looked at her, their gazes meeting and then she spoke.

"Together," she said, softly. "Together," she repeated, her voice much stronger. "I'm sorry, Patrick," Louise said, gently a moment later and Jackson got the feeling he was trespassing on a conversation he shouldn't be. A private one.

He felt a little out of place.

"Should I go wait in the car?"

Louise shook her head. "No. This is only a quick visit. Can you start getting my stuff together?"

...

She sat in the car, her arms wrapped around her chest, staring at the house she had lived in for a year and a half. And yet it never felt like home. Never, not even once. Not even for a second. She should have known just from that Patrick wasn't right for her. "I am capable of opening a door by myself," she said, as Jackson opened the car door, letting the freezing air in.

"I'm just helping you," he noted, his mouth curving into a smile. No matter what she had just told Jackson, she _did_ need his help. Her side was still painful, and she was weak – something she did not like at all. Louise hated being weak. It made her...made her feel useless. Like she had when she was a child. She shivered. She didn't want to go back there.

Louise took Jackson's outstretched hand and stood up. Her legs wobbled under her weight – _too much time spent in a bed_, she thought to herself – and though she didn't really want to, she leant on Jackson's chest and let him put his arms around her. They shuffled towards the door and when they got there, Louise opened her handbag and started searching for her keys.

She knew that after this, they'd need to go to her hotel room and get her stuff that was there – which admittedly wasn't much. Just some toiletries, a few clothes and her photographs. Louise thought back to the day she left the house. It was the day after the divorce papers had arrived in the post. It had been the day she'd realised that she could leave, that this place wasn't hers to live in anymore. She'd left gladly and had not looked back. Except she'd left a lot of her stuff, intending to come back for it at some point. She'd kept putting it off until now; here she was, standing on the doorstep to the house that she used to live in.

She'd taken her photographs, ones of her and Archie. None of the ones with Patrick. Louise figured he could keep them. There was nothing else really that she wanted. But here she was, come to take the things she owned. Her things. The remainder of her clothes. That was about it. When she went in, she was sure she would realise there was something else she wanted, but at the moment, there was nothing. Louise felt a little sad that over a year and a half of marriage, all she accumulated that she cared about was clothes. And quite a few of them she'd had before she married him.

Louise sighed and opened the door. They staggered through the hall into the kitchen, where Louise gratefully sat down on a chair. The pain in her side was getting more uncomfortable the more she moved and sitting down a major relief. Jackson, kind Jackson, picked a glass up and filled it with water and then handed it to her. She took a gulp as he spoke. "What do you want then? Clothes, photos, stuff like..." He stopped, his voice dwindling to silence, as the both of them heard footsteps coming down the stairs. _Burglars, thieves, _was the first thought that popped into her head. Well, Louise was a police officer, if there were strangers in the house, taking their things, she would make sure they didn't get away with it.

Wait, why was she thinking if it was thieves? Who else could it be? Archie was at school and Patrick was in America so there was no one else. Louise felt suddenly angry. After everything she'd been through over the last few days, that she and Jackson had been through, to come back to this. Burglars stealing her stuff. They really did pick their moments, didn't they?

She looked up and she met Jackson's eye. Louise had her back to the doorway, but she figured that was okay, because she wouldn't really be able to do anything, not in the condition she was in at the moment. Jackson, however, would almost certainly be fine if things go physical. Or if they didn't. He used to be a police man, Louise reminded herself.

The burglar picked the wrong house. One full of former and current police officers. Not a good choice. Especially when one of those police officers was Louise and she was annoyed. An angry Louise was not something you wanted to come up against, even if she had been in emergency surgery not long ago.

She saw something flicker in Jackson's gaze and she wondered what he could see that she couldn't. Louise attempted to twist in her seat, but her side flared with pain. "What the hell are you doing in my house?" The shouted words caught her off guard. She recognised the soft Irish tones of her husband. But Patrick was in America, wasn't he? Wasn't he? It seemed he wasn't. Louise turned in her seat, her side opposing the quick, sharp movement, but she was too surprised to really notice, the harsh pain fading quickly as Louise came face-to-face with her husband – estranged, mind - for the first time in months.

"Patrick?" She said, incredulously, unable to believe the evidence her eyes was showing her. Patrick was walking up the corridor towards them, looking world-weary and like he could do with a good night's sleep.

"Louise?" He replied, just as incredulously.

"You're supposed to be in America." _State the obvious, then Louise_.

"The conference finished early," he answered, waving a hand in the air in front of his face. It took her a few seconds to realise he was gesturing at Jackson. "Would you like to introduce me, Louise?" Patrick was in the kitchen now, attempting to size up Jackson without looking like he was – except he wasn't doing a very good job.

"Oh, sorry," Louise replied, quietly. She had a feeling that this wasn't going to go well, but she also had a feeling that if she lied and said that Jackson was someone he wasn't, he would be a little annoyed. There was no point denying the truth, not anymore, not when everything else had been spoken. "This is Jackson. Jackson meet Patrick. Patrick, Jackson." Louise watched Patrick carefully after her words, anticipating that he wouldn't react well to having the man he had accused Louise of having an affair with a few months ago turning up in his kitchen. She was right, but the way Patrick did react surprised Louise a lot.

Patrick wasn't a violent man, in fact the only other time she'd ever seen him lose his temper before was when he found the texts on her phone. Jackson wasn't expecting the punch either – Louise wouldn't have been surprised to find out that Patrick hadn't even expected it, it had just happened. Not that she wasn't furious at him for punching her – what? What should she call him? Boyfriend? No, that sounded far too young for them. Fiancé? Calling Jackson her fiancé would _definitely _help in this situation, wouldn't it? So what should she call him? Jackson. He was her Jackson. She would have smirked but her husband had just punched Jackson and she was too angry to smirk. 

"You told me you didn't know where he was," Patrick said, looking livid.

"I didn't," she replied, stating fact. When she had told her now-estranged husband that she had no clue where Jackson was she was telling the truth. She didn't know that events would tumble over one another until this moment, sitting in her kitchen with stitches in her side, her husband on one side, Jackson on another, having to explain why things had come to this moment.

"Explain why he's in our kitchen then."

"I had a car accident," Louise replied, tempestuously.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Patrick replied, blinking.

"They called Jackson and he turned up at the hospital," she replied, still a little angry at Patrick for hitting Jackson. She didn't give her husband time to reply, just continuing, a year's worth of irritation towards her husband – perfect, kind, wonderful Patrick – spilling out. "I don't hear a how are you, or are you all right? I just had a car crash, Patrick. I was unconscious for four days and then I had an internal haemorrhage. Sorry I didn't call you to let you know Jackson turned up." She breathed heavily out. She knew she was being a little unkind to Patrick.

"Sorry," Patrick replied, quietly, and Louise felt a little guilty for her snapped words as her estranged husband reached out and shook Jackson's hand. "Is this you showing me that you've moved on?"

"This is me coming to get my stuff," she replied, dodging the question. Even though she knew the answer to Patrick's question – yes! Yes this was her moving on – she didn't want to tell him, was reluctant to tell her husband she was embarking on a relationship with another man just months after their breakup.

"And you and him - you're what?" He asked, pointing between her and Jackson and she sighed. She was going to have to answer after all. It wasn't that she was ashamed of Jackson, it was just a conversation she didn't really want to have with Patrick at this particular moment. Scratch that, she didn't really ever want to have that conversation with Patrick.

"Together," Louise said, softly, enjoying the feel of the word in her mouth in regards to Jackson. "Together," she repeated, her voice gaining more control, more strength. She looked up and caught her soon-to-be-ex husband's gaze. "I'm sorry, Patrick," she couldn't help but add, knowing that it wouldn't really soften the blow.

"Should I go wait in the car?" Jackson interjected.

"No," she said quickly. "This is only a quick visit. Can you start getting my stuff together?" Louise smiled at Jackson and he nodded.

Patrick cleared his throat and the two of them turned to face him. "I've started putting your stuff into boxes. I didn't think you'd mind." He gave her a small smile, before turning to Jackson. "I'll show you where they are." The two men started off down the hall, leaving Louise alone with her thoughts. She was still computing the events of the last few minutes. Computing the fact that Patrick had arrived home early from his conference.

She sighed and put her head in her hands. Louise was tired and she just wanted to go home. Though she hadn't had a home in a long, long time, if she'd ever had one. She wondered if Jackson's flat would be her home. She thought that maybe, one day it would be. Louise knew her conviction that she might finally find her place, find her home, with Jackson was because of him and not because of his small flat where the fridge didn't work and you had to give the taps a thump before they worked.

"Are you okay?" Louise's head snapped up at the words, and found herself looking straight into her soon-to-be-ex husband's face.

"Where's Jackson?" She asked, ignoring his question about how she was.

"He's shifting boxes to the car. He brought the car round and he's taking them through the front," Patrick answered, surprising not calling her out on the fact she had just ignored his question. If they'd still been married, he would have. It was one of the things about Patrick that annoyed her, that every time she dodged a question or changed the subject, he'd always brought it up again. It was a sign that things were changing, that Patrick had realised things were different now and she wasn't his to worry about anymore. "There's a few boxes and there still some of your stuff upstairs, but I don't think it'll take long."

Louise smiled gratefully at Patrick, and a sudden wave of guilt washed over her. He looked tired and forlorn, like a little lost puppy who had lost its master. She never should have married Patrick, had known all along it would end like this – but not with Jackson in the picture though. She never allowed herself to imagine Jackson in her future. No, she kept him firmly in her past, never letting herself dream. Now she didn't have to dream. "Patrick-" She started, but he interrupted her.

"Don't. Don't say you're sorry, Louise. I already know." He smiled ruefully at her. "I really hope you and Jackson are very happy," he added, a moment later, without malice or sarcasm. He really meant it. Louise smiled sadly at her estranged husband, knowing that he deserved someone better than her. Selfish, one-track minded, obstinate her. Louise who could never let go of a man who she'd never even kissed.

But now, despite everything, she was glad she'd never given up on Jackson.

Because she had been selfish when she'd married Patrick. She didn't love him – no, not enough, nowhere near enough. She didn't really like him that much sometimes – though Louise did know that you could love someone very much but still sometimes, you might not like them. Oh yes, there had been some times when she hadn't liked Jackson. And yet, she'd loved him all the same. Unwavering.

She smiled again at Patrick, before he turned and left the room.

Louise kept smiling even after he'd gone.

...

"Well, as I said, it's not that big," Jackson said as he opened the door to his flat and led Louise inside. "but it is home." He turned back and watched her as she glanced around the flat for the first time. After a moment, her face broke out into a smile.

"It's lovely."

"Are you just saying that or...?"

"Oh, I'm definitely just saying it save your feelings," Louise replied, nodding her head.

"Really?" Jackson said.

"Of course." She paused, looking around the room for a second, deep in thought. "It doesn't even matter, does it?" Louise said, smiling again. "All that matters is that you're here." Jackson could see her look a little embarrassed by her words, but he was glad she said them. Because they were true. All that mattered now was that they were together.

Tomorrow, and in the days and weeks that followed, big questions still needed to be asked and answered – though quite a few of them already had been - Louise's stuff would have to be moved in and at some point in the near future, Jackson would have to introduce her to Marlee and Josie. Archie would have to be told too. All big things in their own rights. Louise would have to finalise her divorce from Patrick. They would have to plan the wedding at Gretna Green. They would have to get used to each other, to living together, to being together.

But before tomorrow, they had today. It was better to live in the now than in the past or the future. And for the first time in his life, Louise Munroe was his now.

Jackson smiled. They had today.


End file.
